To Find a Way
by Professor McGonagal
Summary: Rachel Belby, Marcus Belby's little sister, is due to begin her years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Poised to become her family's newest Ravenclaw, Rachel is determined to make the most of her time at Hogwarts. But little does she know that life can change at the drop of a hat; and in ways she has never dared to imagine. Please read, enjoy and review! :)
1. Chapter 1: Friday the Thirtieth

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else that may be referenced in this chapter.**

 **Twitter: Prof_McGonagal**

 **Chapter 1: Friday the Thirtieth**

 _BUZZ-BUZZ-BUZZ…!_

Eleven-year-old Rachel Belby awoke with a start as her alarm clock buzzed into life. Lifting her head from her pillow, Rachel squinted in the direction of her beside table, straining her eyes in a rather fruitless effort to see through the fuzzy blur of colour that was her natural vision as she fumbled groggily along the table for both the button that would silence her alarm clock and her glasses.

 _BUZZ-BUZZ- BU-_

Her alarm clock fell silent abruptly as Rachel found the button and pressed down, switching it off. Sighing inwardly with relief that the noise was gone, Rachel continued to search along her beside table for her glasses, narrowing her eyes further in an attempt to catch a tell-tale glimpse of the wire frames amongst the blur, and remember roughly whereabouts she had placed them on the beside table the night before, after she had turned out her light.

Rachel fumbled across a large black blur that felt like the face of a book. Halfway across it, her fingers closed over something cool, thin and wire-like with a slightly bent piece of plastic covering one end. Recognising the shape, Rachel picked up her glasses and slid them on to her nose, sitting up properly and looking around her bedroom as the world came into focus.

Sunlight streamed into the room from her left, through the bedroom's window; though it was slightly patchy thanks to the simply enormous tree that stood before the window, facing the street outside. Light bronze-coloured curtains framed the window, pulled open to allow for the light summer breeze. Rachel's brown owl, Artemisia- who had been a present from her parents to celebrate her eleventh birthday and receiving her Hogwarts letter-, slept in her cage atop a small round wooden table painted bronze in the corner of the room, to the left of the window; a wooden wardrobe with drawers painted bronze like Artemisia's table stood directly opposite Rachel's bronze-painted-framed double bed, to the right of her bedroom door; two wooden bedside tables painted the same bronze colour as the wardrobe bookended her bed covered with light blue bedclothes; and a bookshelf of the same wooden material and colour as her bedside tables against the wall directly opposite her bedroom window. Her plain wooden desk stood a little way to the right of the bookshelf; a corkboard with a Weird Sisters calendar and her Hogwarts letter pinned to its front hung above it. Her bedroom walls were painted royal blue and Rachel had stuck an old Ravenclaw scarf of her Mother's rather lopsidedly to the wall above her corkboard with an unnecessary amount of Spello-tape when she was seven.

Rachel's gaze passed from the scarf down to her Weird Sisters calendar. A picture of the band sunning themselves on a tropical looking beach somewhere announced the month to be August, and the date, according to the rows of large, black crosses marking the passing of the month, was Friday the thirtieth.

 _Friday the thirtieth…_

" _Today's the day!"_ Rachel squealed, leaping out of bed, stumbling and hopping around in circles to regain her balance as her leg got caught in the bedclothes. Artemisia awoke with an indignant hoot, and surveyed Rachel beadily as the girl recovered her balance, beaming excitedly.

"What _are_ you doing in there?" the curious, slightly amused sounding shout of Rachel's older brother, Marcus, echoed through her bedroom door from the landing outside.

"Today's Diagon Alley day!" Rachel shouted back, running across her bedroom to feed Artemisia and make sure she had enough clean water and food in her tray.

Marcus laughed. "I wouldn't get too excited," he shouted, his voice slightly fainter as though he was walking away. "You never know, Ollivander might've sold out!"

"Yeah right!" Rachel rolled her eyes, turning her head as she slid a full tray of food into Artemisia's cage and poking her tongue out in the direction of her bedroom door on principle as Marcus's footsteps sounded quickly and heavily down the staircase, as though he was running. Once she had ensured that her owl had enough clean water for the day, Rachel crossed to her wardrobe, wincing slightly as she pulled open the doors and caught sight of herself in the narrow mirror on the inside of the door. Her short brown hair, normally rather flat and hanging to just past her jaw, stuck up at all angles in a tangle of knots courtesy of sleep; her face was unusually pale and her brown eyes were slightly red and tired looking behind her square glasses. Turning away from the mirror, Rachel pulled a change of clothes from her wardrobe and drawers and left her bedroom for the bathroom across the landing, passing Marcus' bedroom door, which was on the wall adjacent to Rachel's, and her parents' bedroom, which was on the wall opposite Marcus', with its en suite bathroom as she did so.

She emerged from the bathroom some fifteen minutes later, turned to her right and raced down the stairs to the kitchen in search of breakfast, her stomach growling. On her way down, Rachel passed a few mute, but moving oil paintings of her ancestors that lined the staircase, all of with the same blue and bronze stripped background, emblazoned with the Ravenclaw Crest.

The Belby family had been in Ravenclaw for as long as most of the magical community could remember. Indeed, no one in the family had been sorted outside of Ravenclaw in two hundred and fifty years- the last person to do so was one Dorothy Belby, who had been sorted into Gryffindor in 1741, but no one in the family really liked to talk about her. The Belbys' were a pure-blooded family, though blood-status was not something that really mattered to the family, unlike their Ravenclaw pride. The Belby family was as proud of their Ravenclaw heritage as the Malfoy family were of their Slytherin and pure-blooded heritage, and the Weasleys of their Gryffindor; and though in pubic they did not make much of a show of their pride, like the Weasleys, with the exception of the well known connexion between the family and the house; in private, they were rather similar to the Malfoys; something that was evidenced by the inside of Rachel's family's four bedroom, detached home in the Muggle area of Heathgate, Hampstead on the outskirts of London. Situated on the end of their particular street, Gloriana Street- a part of a four cross of roads lined with both detached and semi-detached houses, with a Muggle church at the end of the longest of the roads- the Belby family home looked identical on the outside (save for the curtains) to that of their Muggle neighbour, Edith Dawson; a nosy and rather spiteful elderly woman with grey hair and a constantly pinched expression. On the inside, however, it was quite a different story. Every room in the house, save for the bathrooms- which were white- was painted some shade of blue, and much of the furniture, including the sofas and armchairs in the sitting room and the curtains in all the rooms, were made of a bronze coloured cloth. Several moving pictures of her parents from their schooldays hung on the walls, too, one or both of them wearing some form of Ravenclaw memorabilia in a great many.

"Good morning," Rachel's mother Susanne, a short witch with long, curly blonde hair, bright green eyes and round glasses, smiled at her daughter as Rachel entered the dining room and sat down opposite Marcus and beside her father, Flavius Belby III, a tall wizard with brown eyes and neat, straight brown hair who sat at the head of the table, reading _the Daily Prophet_ as was his custom at breakfast.

"Morning." Rachel replied with a smile, pulling a dish of pancakes towards her.

"Merlin, Rachel, save some for the rest of us." Marcus raised his eyebrows across the table at her as she filled her plate with pancakes. A year older than his sister, Marcus had inherited their father's tall build as Rachel had their mother's short one. Both siblings had their father's brown hair and brown eyes, too, and though they both had their mother's slightly pointed bone structure, Marcus had no need for glasses and his hair was full and curly, like their mothers; while Rachel's was reminiscent of their father's, flat and straight.

"I could say the same to you," Rachel raised her eyebrows back at him, gesturing to the pile of bacon on her brother's plate.

Marcus smirked back, gesturing to the family's House-Elf, Ceesy, as she set a fresh dish of bacon on the table. "Oh, would you look at that- more bacon."

"That's enough, you two," their mother admonished, frowning at them both, her frown turning into a smile as she turned to Ceesy. "Thank you Ceesy, I'll let you know when to clear."

"Yes Mistress," Ceesy curtseyed and Disapparated with a loud _CRACK!_

"Load of rubbish in the paper today," Rachel's father announced, closing the newspaper and turning his attention to the plate of bacon and eggs in front of him. "Only thing that's even remotely newsworthy is the news that they still don't know who broke into Gringotts on the thirty-first of July; and even then, the only new thing they think is that it was likely the work of a dark wizard or witch- and if you ask me a six-year-old could have figured out as much. Good article for you in there, though, Rachel," he said, pushing the newspaper towards her. "Page one hundred and twenty-four - Fudge's made another speech defending his decision to continue the practise of informing the Muggle Prime Minister of any major crisis in the magical community."

"Well, of course he has to tell the Muggle Prime Minister," Rachel said, rolling her eyes as she pulled the newspaper towards her. "It's only fair that the Muggles are looked out for- they're people too."

"That going in your speech when you're in the job?" Her father asked with a grin.

"Possibly." Rachel grinned back, finding the article and pouring over it as she ate her pancakes.

Since the day she and Marcus had gone to the Ministry of Magic with their father when she was nine, Rachel had been fascinated with politics and harboured a desire to be Minister for Magic herself one day. Her mother had a bout of Scrofungulus at the time, and while she was being treated in St Mungo's, Rachel and Marcus had gone to the Ministry with their father for the day so that they could all go straight to the hospital to visit her when he finished work, and, if the treatment was successful- which it proved to be- take her home. While they had been at the Ministry, Rachel and Marcus's father had been rather at a loss as to what do with them- he worked as a senior official of the British seats of the International Confederation of Wizards in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, something that involved a lot of paperwork, speeches and was none too interesting to a nine-year-old girl and a ten-year-old boy. Thus, Flavius had told his secretary, a red-haired witch called Lillian Riley- who had been a Ravenclaw herself in her Hogwarts days- to give Marcus and Rachel a long and detailed tour of the Ministry so that he could do the work he need to.

Marcus had been rather bored throughout the tour- his interest had only been spiked when they had visited the Beast Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures; but the more Lillian talked about the different departments, how they all worked together and how they changed under different Ministers of Magic, the more fascinated Rachel had become, and the more appealing the idea of being Minister of Magic became, and then was, to her. Her then-newfound ambition had taken a step forwards when they had bumped into Cornelius Fudge on his way back from a meeting in very good spirits; so good, in fact, that he had let them have a quick peek into his office, and the five second glimpse of the large and luxurious room with its indigo coloured walls, large, highly polished mahogany desk, comfortable looking dark dragon hide swivel chair, roaring fireplace framed with a white mantelpiece, large bookshelf filled with heavy tomes, neatly organised pigeonhole of interdepartmental memos and general atmosphere of elegance and authority had been enough to firmly imbed Rachel's desire to hold office into her mind, hopes and dreams. From that day on, Rachel strived to learn everything she could about the role of Minister for Magic, those who had held the position, how they had come to do so and the way in which they had run the government. Such was the extent of her research and ambition to hold office that she named her owl Artemisia, after the first ever female Minister of Magic Artemisia Lufkin- even though she was a Hufflepuff, not a Ravenclaw- and had devised a twelve step plan that would theoretically get her the job of Minister for Magic; a plan that she had written down very carefully indeed on the first page of the brown leather bound notebook she received from her brother for her birthday, and intended to keep as a diary and planner of sorts.

"Right, we're meeting the Boots and the Turpins for lunch in the Leaky Cauldron at half-past twelve, so we should probably get a move on if we want to get some of the shopping done," Susanne said as the family finished breakfast, as well as, in Rachel's case, reading Fudge's speech. "Ceesy- come and clear, please!"

"Aren't the Boots coming with us?" Marcus asked, sounding disappointed as Ceesy Apparated into the room and started to clear the dining table. The Boot family lived across the street; they had two sons: Oliver, who was Marcus's age, and Terry, who was Rachel's. Being the only two Wizarding families they knew of in the area, the two families had always been on friendly terms. Marcus, Rachel, Oliver and Terry had all been tutored together in English comprehension, writing and mathematics by Oliver and Terry's mother Sally Boot, who had taught Arithmancy for several years at Hogwarts before Oliver was born. Their parents had decided against sending any of them to any Muggle school beyond pre-school as a precaution, following Oliver and Marcus's getting into a fight with a Muggle boy on their first day of year one and turning the boy's hair blue, and made his skin break out in large, painful boils with accidental magic. Though they themselves did not remember the boys' name, the Muggle children in the area had been so traumatised by the sight of the incident that they all shunned the Boot and Belby children- with the slight exception of one girl around Rachel and Terry's age, who lived on Jude street; the street that faced the church in the cross of roads. All the two knew of the girl was that she lived nearby, had thick, bushy brown hair, brown eyes and rather big front teeth, and spent a lot of time alone reading in the local library that stood at the head of the town square, which was about a fifteen minute walk from Rachel's house. The extent of their interactions with the girl was small- she had helped them find a book on basic English literature in the library once; and though her bossy, know-it-all attitude had been rather annoying, she had been very helpful indeed- that is, until Terry and Rachel had thanked her and introduced themselves. The girl's eyes had gone very wide indeed, and though both Rachel and Terry agreed later that for a moment, the girl looked very much as though she wanted to say something, a second later she had turned and hurried from the library, her arms filled with books, and had avoided them ever since.

"No- they're going to visit Sally." Susanne said to Marcus; Sally had recently been hospitalised with a particularly nasty case of Dragon Pox. "They're hoping for some good news."

"Hopefully they'll get it… are you on call today?" Flavius asked his wife as they all got up from the table.

"When I'm not in the office I'm always on call, my dear," Susanne replied with a wryly smile. "Sometimes I think I'm the only Obliviator in the entire Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes."

"Well, you are the best- in my eyes, at least," Flavius said, slipping his arm around her waist and kissing her cheek softly, to a chorus of disgusted protests from their children.

"Oh, go and get ready to leave, you two," Susanne rolled her eyes.

"Alright- just don't start snogging." Marcus said.

"Yeah," Rachel agreed, "it's gross."

Susanne rolled her eyes again. "We're leaving in fifteen minutes!" she called after her children as they left the dining room and ran up the stairs.

Despite her disgust at her parents display of affection, Rachel couldn't help but feel a fresh wave of excitement as she got ready to leave for Diagon Alley, and remembered that today was the day she was going to get her wand. She had been waiting for her turn ever since Marcus got his wand the previous year, before his first year at Hogwarts; the entirety of the day ahead of her, in fact, made up the second step of her plan to become Minister for Magic. The plan had stalled somewhat after she had fulfilled step one- getting her Hogwarts Letter- on her eleventh birthday in February, but, at last, after months of waiting; it could finally advance.

 **A/N: Please review! :)**


	2. Chapter 2: Diagon Alley

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else that may be referenced in this chapter. The** _ **bold, italic, underline text**_ **is a direct quote from the Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone book. Google Translate was used for any language other than English.**

 **A/N: thank you to you all for reading, reviewing, following and favouring and I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)**

 **Twitter: Prof_McGonagal**

 **Chapter 2: Diagon Alley**

 _Despite her disgust at her parents display of affection, Rachel couldn't help but feel a fresh wave of excitement as she got ready to leave for Diagon Alley, and remembered that today was the day she was going to get her wand. She had been waiting for her turn ever since Marcus got his wand the previous year, before his first year at Hogwarts; the entirety of the day ahead of her, in fact, made up the second step of her plan to become Minister for Magic. The plan had stalled somewhat after she had fulfilled step one- getting her Hogwarts Letter- on her eleventh birthday in February, but, at last, after months of waiting; it could finally advance._

Rachel drew in a sharp breath of fresh air, letting go of her father's hand and opening her eyes as the sensation of being forced through a very small rubber tube that was that of Apparition faded away and she found herself standing outside the Leaky Cauldron.

"No one travel sick?" Susanne asked, Apparating to the outside of the pub with Marcus. "No? Good. Let's go, then."

The Belbys passed through the Leaky Cauldron, waving hello to Tom the barman as they passed and continuing out onto the small walled courtyard that was home to a dustbin, some weeds and the entrance to Diagon Alley.

Flavius took his wand from his pocket and tapped the brick three bricks up and two bricks across from where the dustbin was positioned. Rachel felt a thrill of excitement run down her spine as the brick quivered in place and a small hole appeared in its middle; a hole that grew larger and larger until they were standing before a simply enormous archway and the brightly coloured cobblestoned street of Diagon Alley: at last, after months of waiting and daydreaming and anticipating, she was going to be getting her own robes, textbooks and wand, and her plan would be underway once again.

"Gringotts, first is it?" Susanne asked.

"There's no need for all four of us to go down to the vault- things are probably going to be pretty unpleasant in there, what with the break-in on the thirty-first of last month, even if nothing was stolen." Flavius said. "Why don't you three go to Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment and pick out Rachel's trunk and scales and all the rest of it while I go and get the money, and then I'll come and pay for it all and we can get the rest of the stuff?"

"We're not getting my wand first?" Rachel asked, slightly disappointed.

"I thought that, as the saying goes, we'd save the best for last." Her father said with a grin. "Besides, remember what happened last time?"

Rachel nodded, giggling at the memory despite her slight disappointment. Marcus had insisted on getting his wand first the previous year, and had been so excited upon receiving it that sparks had shot from its end as they walked out of the shop and set a nearby witch's hat on fire. Flavius had put out the fire as soon as it started and payed to fix the slight singe marks, but the witch had not been amused.

"She was a miserable old bat, that woman- no sense of humour." Marcus said, slightly defensively. "Oh, by the way, I need new scales, too- and some new stuff for potions. I'm running low on Valerian sprigs and snake gangs and my scales may have been smashed in celebration on the last day of term." He grinned sheepishly.

"Of course they were," Susanne rolled her eyes. "You need new robes, too- you've grown a few inches since last year; and that might take a while so, it's probably a good idea to split up."

She led the way down the Alley, passing Potage's Cauldron Shop, gleaming cauldrons of various sizes on display outside the door; Gamble and Japes Joke Shop, with its window full of jokes and tricks; Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions, its window lined with robe-clad mannequins; Quality Quidditch Supplies, the front window of which was largely obscured by the amount of people in front of it.

"- any broom, it's the _Nimbus Two Thousand!"_ a girl with long, curly black hair of around Rachel's age was exclaiming to the man beside her, her finger pressed against the glass, pointing. "Oh, go on Father, _please."_

"There's no point, you're not allowed to take it to school-"

"I'll fly it all of today and tomorrow and in the holidays; you know I will! Oh, _please…"_

But whatever else the girl said to try and persuade her father to buy her the broomstick Rachel didn't know, for she and her family walked past the shop and split up; Flavius continuing up the street to the snow-white Gringotts Wizarding Bank, and Susanne, Marcus and Rachel turned to the left hand side of the Alley and entered Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment.

The inside of the shop was largely filled with wooden shelves stocked with scales; telescopes; hourglasses; phials; and globes made of various materials; racks of bags of various shapes, sizes and materials; and a large pile of highly polished trunks- some emblazoned with the Hogwarts crest for students and some without for general sale- of various sizes, woods and steels were stacked in a pyramid shape along the back wall behind the counter.

"Right, Rachel, what exactly do you need from here?" Susanne asked, turning to her daughter as Marcus wandered off to pick out his new scales. Rachel pulled her Hogwarts letter- which she had unpinned from her corkboard before leaving the house- from the pocket of her jeans and turned to the second page.

 _ **HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY**_

 _ **Uniform**_

 _ **First-year students will require:**_

 _ **1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)**_

 _ **2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear**_

 _ **3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)**_

 _ **4\. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)**_

 _ **Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags**_

 _ **Set Books**_

 _ **All students should have a copy of each of the following:**_

 _ **The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk**_

 _ **A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot**_

 _ **Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling**_

 _ **A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch**_

 _ **One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore**_

 _ **Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger**_

 _ **Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander**_

 _ **The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble**_

 _ **Other Equipment**_

 _ **1 wand**_

 _ **1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)**_

 _ **1 set glass or crystal phials**_

 _ **1 telescope**_

 _ **1 set brass scales**_

 _ **Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad**_

 _ **PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST-YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS**_

"Er… one set of glass or crystal phials; a telescope; and a set of brass scales," Rachel answered. "Oh, and a trunk and schoolbag, obviously, please."

"Right," Susanne nodded. "I think we'll get you glass phials- they're not as expensive as crystal so it won't matter so much if you break them… oh, and look, the telescopes over here are collapsible- if you get one of those it'll be easier to carry around when you need to…"

By the time Flavius arrived to pay for everything, Marcus had found the scales he wanted and Susanne and Rachel had picked out the latter's glass phials, collapsible telescope, brass scales, schoolbag and school trunk- the latter having been branded with her initials by the the tall, yet rather hunchbacked storekeeper known only as Wiseacre. Once they had paid for everything, Susanne summoned Ceesy, who took all of Rachel's new school things and Marcus's scales home, and the Belbys left the shop.

"Where to, next, then?" Marcus asked.

"Well, you mentioned you needed new potions ingredients and Rachel needs a cauldron and everything, so we might as go to Potage's Cauldron Shop and then Slug & Jiggers Apothecary and check off all your potions stuff; and then we'll go and get your robes from Madam Malkin's." Susanne said.

Flavius snorted loudly and contemptuously as the family made their way down the bustling street towards the potions shops. "I don't know why they bother teaching Potions at Hogwarts- it's a load of tosh," he said. "I've said it before and I'll say it again- the only potion that is worth having's a-"

"-stiff one at the end of the day," Susanne finished. "Don't get yourself all worked up, dear. You start with potions then move on to Damocles and then you're in a bad mood for the rest of the day."

Flavius gave an acknowledging jerk of his head, but his expression soured further at the mention of his younger brother- who he had not spoken to for several years and whose only communication with the family were small presents to Marcus and Rachel on their birthdays and at Christmastime. Rachel and Marcus only had one memory of their uncle on their father's side, which consisted of a Christmas dinner when they were six and seven respectively; a meal that had ended in a blazing row between their father and Uncle Damocles over the latter's deciding to try and make a career out of his skill in potion making- a row that ended with Uncle Damocles storming out of the house with a bloody nose and their going with their parents to St. Mungo's to fix their father's shrivelled up ears.

"You need a Pewter cauldron, don't you Rachel?" Susanne asked as Flavius held open the door to Potage's Cauldron Shop and the Belbys entered the shop. There were no shelves, only stack upon stack of gleaming cauldrons of various sizes and metals.

"Yes, please," Rachel nodded. "Standard size two, the list said."

"Ah- Hogwarts is it?" A stout, brown haired, blue-eyed witch whose name tag read Madam Potage smiled down at Rachel, who nodded, smiling back as she and her family approached the counter the witch stood behind. "Yes, I've seen quite a few of your lot today- one Pewter cauldron in standard size two," Madam Potage took her wand from the pocket of the apron she wore as she spoke and flicked it. A slight clanging noise echoed around the shop and a grey cauldron lifted itself off the nearest stack, floating through the air landing on the desk with a soft _thud!_ "This Pewter cauldron is a size two, is brand new and in very good condition as I'm sure you'll agree- and it's very reasonably priced at fifteen galleons…"

"…Right then, onto robes," Susanne said, glancing at her watch as the Belbys emerged from Slug & Jiggers Apothecary some fifteen minutes later, Ceesy having apparated away with armfuls of new potions ingredients, a brewing kit, and Rachel's new cauldron from Potage's Cauldron Shop. "If we hurry, we'll be able to get your uniforms and textbooks before we meet the Boots and Turpins."

"…Well, that was a successful mission," Flavius said as the Belby's exited Madam Malkin's three quarters of an hour later, his arms full of parcels of plain black robes robes; and winter cloaks with silver fastenings; and name tags for both Marcus and Rachel as well as the pointed hat and dragon hide gloves Rachel needed. "All that's missing is some Ravenclaw décor for Rachel, but you'll get that soon enough," he grinned. Rachel smiled back, feeling a wave of excitement wash into her stomach as she thought of the fact that in three days' time, she would be in Ravenclaw like the rest of her family. "I might as well hold onto these until we get their textbooks, Susanne," Flavius went on, "then we can give the lot to Ceesy and she can stay at home for the rest of the day."

"Yes, that's a good idea," Susanne agreed, pushing her hair from her eyes. "Let's go to Flourish and Blotts then, come on…"

She led the way up the alley; Flavius opted to stay outside with the parcels of clothes while Susanne, Marcus and Rachel entered Flourish and Blotts.

"Pass me your lists, please, both of you and we'll divvy up the workload- we don't have a great deal of time before we have to go to the Leaky Cauldron," Susanne said, pushing her glasses up her nose and peering down at her children's booklists as the two handed them to her. "Right- Marcus, you need _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2,_ by Miranda Goshawk and _Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ , by Quentin Trimble. You get the _Standard book of Spells Grade 2,_ and you might as well get _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1_ for Rachel, because they'll be next to each other. Rachel, you get _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ , by Emeric Switch; _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ , by Phyllida Spore; and _Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ , by Quentin Trimble- get two of those, as Marcus needs one too; and I'll _get A History of Magic_ , by Bathilda Bagshot; _Magical Theory_ , by Adalbert Waffling; _Magical Drafts and Potions_ , by Arsenius Jigger and _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander."

Both Marcus and Rachel agreed to this plan, and the three went their separate ways. Rachel pushed her glasses up her nose as she walked, keeping them in place as best she could as she edged around the various other patrons in the shop with a murmured 'Excuse me'; searching high and low for her textbooks. She found _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ , first, but was stalled in her collecting efforts by _A Beginner's guide to Transfiguration_ , as it proved impossible to find. Growing rather impatient and catching sight of her mother rushing around as though they had only minutes to spare, Rachel joined the end of the line in front of the counter, which, fortunately, consisted only of an elderly witch with a wart on her nose buying _Travels with Trolls_ by Gilderoy Lockhart. A few minutes later, armed with directions to the locations of the rest of her textbooks, Rachel thanked the shopkeeper and set off around the shop once more. Five minutes later, having found and picked up a copy of _A Beginner's guide to Transfiguration_ from its rather out of the way place- the very bottom row of a corner shelf; Rachel set out to collect the last book her mother had assigned to her. She was in the midst of following the storekeeper's directions to _Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection,_ when hushed, rather angry sounding voices reached her from the end of the aisle. Knowing she was rather short on time and needed the textbook, Rachel kept walking rather tentatively, slowing her pace considerably and feeling slightly uncomfortable; hoping that whoever was arguing would move their argument elsewhere in the time that it took for her to reach the back of the shop and the shelf against the back wall the book was reportedly on, even though she didn't understand what was being said by the people arguing.

"Tu non sei il mio custode!" a boy's voice hissed angrily.

"Tecnicamente, sì io sono perché Madre mi ha messo a capo mentre stiamo shopping!" A girl's voice fired back.

"Sì - mentre stiamo _shopping_ \- non per il resto della mia vita!" the boy retorted. "Quindi non mi interessa quello che dici, dopo che abbiamo finito qui io sto andando a casa di Theo!"

"No non siete!" The girl said sharply. At that moment, her heart sinking, Rachel reached the end of the aisle and the girl and boy came into view. The girl was extremely pretty; tall with dark skin and high cheekbones; her eyes were dark brown, shaped like almonds and fringed with long lashes and her black hair was long, thick and shiny, and flowed smoothly down her back to her hips. She was slightly taller, and looked slightly older than the boy, who looked around Rachel's age. He was tall in his own right, and had the same high cheekbones as the girl; his eyes, too, where the same shade of brown as the girls', but they were long and slanting, and his hair, while again the same shade of black as the girls', and looked as though it would be very curly, were it not shaved into a buzz cut, as it was. The two looked so much alike they were clearly siblings; something that was only confirmed further by the identical expressions of anger on their faces as they glared at each other. Both of them were clutching armfuls of brand new textbooks and the boy was standing, Rachel saw, her heart sinking further, directly in front of the copies of _Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection._ Neither of them noticed Rachel lingering awkwardly in the corner, clutching her books to her chest with her left arm as she examined a copy of _Curses and Counter-Curses_ by Professor Vindictus Viridian with her right hand; trying to block out the argument as the girl continued:

"Se devo passare il pomeriggio con Julien e Alisanne-"

"Perché è davvero tortura _per voi."_ The boy interrupted, his tone sarcastic as he rolled his eyes. He caught sight of Rachel as he did so and paused, his eyes narrowing; Rachel flushed slightly, embarrassed, but looked steadily back at the boy, whose eyes only narrowed further.

"Can I help you?" he asked rudely, switching languages and speaking in English so suddenly that Rachel was slightly alarmed. She tried not to let it show, however, opening her mouth and replying as politely as she could:

"Sorry- I just need two copies of _Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_."

" _Fascinating_ ," the boy drawled smoothly, raising an eyebrow. "Would you like a prize?"

"If the prize is you moving, then yes, I would, thanks." Rachel replied bluntly, setting _Curses and Counter-Curses_ back onto its shelf, her temper sparking at the boy's rudeness. "You're standing in front of the books."

The boy's sister laughed as her brother's face twisted into a glare. "Are you a firstie this year?" she asked in English, too, regarding Rachel with amusement as she reached behind her brother and pulled two copies of _Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ from the shelf.

"Yes, I am," Rachel nodded. As she did so, Marcus appeared at the end of the aisle she had walked up, carrying _The Standard Book of Spells Grade 2, The Standard Book of Spells Grade 1_ and a third book entitled _Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland_ under his left arm _._

"Oh, there you are, Rachel," he said catching sight of her and hurrying up the aisle towards her. "Mum's saying we're going be late for-" he broke off abruptly as he reached her side, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the dark skinned girl, who looked more amused than ever as she regarded Marcus.

"Hello," she said with a smile, but there was something behind the smile, something rather… conniving, Rachel realised with an inward start.

"It's Marcus, isn't it?" the dark skinned girl went on, still smiling. "Marcus Belby- from Ravenclaw?"

Marcus cleared his throat. "Er, yeah." He replied, a dull flush rising up his neck as he spoke. "H-hello." He added, stammering slightly.

The rude boy stopped glaring at Rachel in favour of rolled his eyes, looking bored, as his sister's smile widened.

"Marcus; Rachel!" Susanne appeared at the end of the aisle, frowning slightly, the rest of Rachel's schoolbooks in her arms. "Whatever's taking so long?"

"You two should probably get going," the dark skinned girl said, her smile still firmly in place as she stepped forwards, holding out the copies of _Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_. "Here're your books, Rachel- it was nice meeting you."

"Thank you; and you too," Rachel replied politely, taking the books; wondering as she did so who the girl and her brother were and why Marcus was acting so strangely.

"Marcus." the girl nodded, the right corner of her smile curling slightly as she looked at him.

"G-goodbye." Marcus stammered slightly again, his neck reddening further. He grabbed Rachel's arm with his free hand, pulling her along after him as he turned and hurried up the aisle towards their mother.

"Finally!" Susanne exclaimed exasperatedly as they reached her. "Give me the books, quickly- I'll pay for them."

"Oh- mum can I have this Dragon one, too, please?" Marcus asked, pointing to it as he and Rachel did as their mother asked. "It's background reading for Care of Magical Creatures next year- and it's only five galleons."

"Yes, of course," Susanne replied, turning to stack the books onto the counter.

"Thanks." Marcus grinned.

"…Who were those people?" Rachel asked quietly, falling into step beside Marcus as they followed their parents up the high street towards the Leaky Cauldron some ten minutes later, Ceesy having Apparated away with their textbooks and clothes from Madam Malkins. "And why were you acting so weirdly?"

"I wasn't acting weirdly." Marcus murmured back defensively.

"Yes you were." Rachel countered. "But forget about that- who are they?"

Marcus pushed his hair from his eyes, his neck reddening slightly once again. "The girl's name's Irma- Irma Zabini." He answered. "I'm guessing the boy's her brother- younger brother, by the look of things. I dunno his name, but Irma's in my year at Hogwarts."

"What House is she in?" Rachel asked, curious.

"Slytherin." Marcus replied.

"Who's in Slytherin?" Flavius asked, turning around.

"Just this girl in my year Rachel and I saw in Flourish and Blotts." Marcus said. "Irma Zabini."

"Zabini?" Susanne asked, turning too.

"Yeah," Marcus nodded. "Why?"

"I know her mother, Giselle." Susanne explained. "She's a very… shrewd woman; manipulative. Knows how to gets whatever she wants from whoever she wants, and more often than not gets it, too."

"Irma follows in her footsteps." Marcus replied darkly. "There was a rumour last term that she failed a Herbology essay and persuaded Sprout to change her mark so that she passed- gave her a load of excuses; everything from a twisted ankle to a sick Grandmother."

" _Professor_ Sprout." Flavius corrected sternly.

"Yeah, that- I mean, Professor Sprout." Marcus said hastily as his father's eyebrows rose.

"Just make sure this Irma girl doesn't manipulate _you_ , Marcus." Susanne warned her son. "She's a Slytherin for a reason, remember."

"You don't have to worry about me, Mum," Marcus replied with an easy grin. "She'll have to wake up very early to catch _me_ \- and she's notorious for being late to breakfast."

"Looked to me like she got up pretty early this morning, though." Rachel muttered under her breath so only Marcus could hear her; wincing slightly as he kicked her in the ankle lightly but sharply in retaliation. "Do you know the name of Giselle Zabini's son, Mum?" she asked Susanne as the Belby's entered the Leaky Cauldron.

"No," Susanne shook her head. "I don't know that much about the woman- only that she's Italian; very manipulative and shrewd in nature, and has two children- oh, and what they say in the papers, of course. Why?"

"He was there too." Rachel answered. "…What do they say in the papers?" she asked, curious.

But her mother didn't answer, for she had caught sight of the Boots and Turpins sitting at a table nearby and bustled over, full of apologies.

"Hello everyone- we're not late, are we?" she asked.

"Not at all." Arthur Turpin, Lisa's father- a short, thin balding, grey eyed man- replied, as he, his wife Jane- a tall witch with dark auburn hair and bright blue eyes- and Terry and Oliver's father Webster II- a tall, blonde man with hazel eyes- stood up to shake Susanne and Flavius's hands.

"Hey," Lisa Turpin and Terry Boot grinned at Rachel and Marcus as they sat down opposite them and beside Terry's older brother, Oliver. Lisa was a short girl with mousy brown hair and steady, intelligent grey eyes. Terry was a head taller than her, with pale skin and dark brown hair, and hazel eyes; Oliver was a few inches taller than his little brother, and though the two shared the same hazel eyes, his hair was blonde, like their fathers.

"Hey." Rachel smiled back; Marcus nodded towards them, clasping hands with Oliver by way of greeting.

"How's your Mum?" he asked.

Oliver swallowed a mouthful of pumpkin juice before replying with a smile. "She's exhausted, but the Healers say she's getting better."

"That's great!" Marcus grinned; Rachel nodded, smiling too.

"Yeah, we're hoping she'll be better before Christmas- we're going to see her again tomorrow, and before we go to Platform nine-and-three quarters on the first." Oliver replied. "Have you been shopping long?"

"A few hours," Marcus nodded. "We've got everything except Rachel's wand and ink and parchment. Irma Zabini's around here somewhere- we saw her and her little brother Flourish and Blotts."

"Really?" Oliver's eyebrows rose. "I didn't know she had a brother."

"Neither did I, but they look so alike its obvious." Marcus said.

"Who are you talking about?" Lisa asked, looking curious.

"Just a girl in our year- you'll find out soon enough." Oliver answered.

"Whatever," Lisa shrugged. "Did you see the new rumours in last week's _Witch Weekly_ , Rachel?" she asked turning to her friend. "About Celestina Warbeck collaborating with the Weird Sisters?"

"Yeah," Rachel nodded, "but I don't think it's actually going to happen."

"Me neither." Lisa agreed fervently. "I mean- can you imagine Celestina Warbeck singing 'This Is the Night?'"

"Not easily." Rachel shook her head, giggling as Lisa did at the very thought. The two girls had only known each other for about two years, but they had become fast friends due to their mutual love of the Weird Sisters. Lisa's mother Jane was an Obliviator who often worked in the same rotation Susanne, and their daughters had met when their mother's had dragged both their families to the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes' Christmas Party. Rachel had complimented Lisa on her Weird Sister's t-shirt; they had struck up conversation and the rest was history. Terry and Lisa had met when their families attended Rachel's father's birthday dinner the year before, and had got on well; so the three had struck up a friendship.

"…Well, we'd best be off." Arthur Turpin said at the end of the meal as they all stood up. "Lots of shopping to do." He smiled at Lisa, who grinned back excitedly.

"So have we," Webster Boot nodded.

"We've still got to get Rachel's wand, as well as parchment and ink and all the rest of it." Flavius said.

"Well, if these three have all got to get wands, why don't we all go to Ollivanders together?" Jane Turpin suggested. "Your first wand is something special, after all- they might as well share the experience."

"Yeah, I don't see why not," Webster agreed. "What d'you three think?" he turned to Terry, Lisa and Rachel to see all three of them exchange glances, then nod fervently.

"Well, that settles that, then," Flavius smile and the three families left the Leaky Cauldron for Ollivander's Wand Shop; Rachel, Lisa and Terry practically jumping up and down with excitement.

Rachel couldn't help but hold her breath slightly as she entered Ollivander's behind Lisa. Despite her excitement, she felt suddenly as though she had entered a place where even the very softest of noises were frowned upon. Where this feeling came from she wasn't quite sure, especially since a bell was echoing back to them from somewhere further within the shop, but it was there, nonetheless. The shelves in Ollivander's were practically invisible, creating the illusion that the shop was merely filled with stack upon stack of long, thin boxes, containing, Rachel knew, wands. Some off the boxes were very dusty, but everything from the dust to the tinkle if the shops bell to the silence that filled the rest of the shop seemed to radiate with some kind powerful, secret magic.

"Good afternoon, everyone." A soft voice spoke as Webster closed the front door, and Rachel jumped, looking around as Lisa and Terry did as Mr Ollivander emerged from the back of the shop, looking around at them all. He looked exactly the same as he did the first time Rachel saw him the previous year, when Marcus had bought his wand- very old, thin and pale, with wide silvery eyes.

"Good afternoon, Mr Ollivander." Susanne said with a smile; the other adults said hello, too, and Marcus, Oliver, Terry, Lisa and Rachel murmured 'hello' as well, smiling politely.

"Susanne Wildsmith- oh, forgive me, Belby." Mr Ollivander said, his gaze landing on her. "Hazel and Unicorn Hair, 11 inches, somewhat pliant; wasn't it? Still treating you well?"

"Yes sir; and yes it is, thank you," Susanne nodded, looking slightly unnerved. "This is my daughter Rachel; and Terry Boot and Lisa Turpin." She gestured to the three. "They're here to get their wands."

"Excellent," Mr Ollivander nodded, "Yes, I remember your brothers, Miss Belby and Mr Boot," he said, his gaze focussing on Marcus and Oliver. "Marcus Belby- English oak and Unicorn hair, 10 ½ inches, swishy; and Oliver Boot- Walnut and White River Monster spine, 13 inches, unyielding; if I remember rightly?"

The boys nodded.

"Wicked," Oliver breathed his eyes wide.

"Thank you, Mr Boot," Mr Ollivander said, a glimmer of a smile tugging at his lips as he turned back to Rachel, Terry and Lisa. "Right, you three- who would like to go first?"

"I will," Lisa said, stepping forwards.

"Right- let me see, then," Mr. Ollivander took a long tape measure marked in silver from the pocket of his robes. "Which is your wand arm- your most dominant?" he added, as Lisa looked slightly confused.

"Oh, my right." She answered.

"Hold it out, please; that's it, thank you." Mr Olivander measured her arm from her shoulder to her finger; then from her wrist to her elbow, then from her shoulder to the shop floor; then from her knee to her armpit and around her head. Then he let the tape measure go and it continued to measure; measuring the width of Lisa's hands and then her nostrils as Mr Ollivander turned away and began pulling box upon box down from several of the many shelves.

"That will do," he said as he turned around, and the tape measure fell to the ground in a heap. "Right, Miss Turpin," he set, setting the many boxes down on the counter and opening one, pulling a wand from within. "Take this wand, please and give it a wave." He held it out to her. "Beechwood and Dragon heartstring, 9 inches, nice and flexible," he said as she took it, looking rather apprehensively. But Lisa did not have time to wave it before Mr Ollivander snatched it from her hands and opened another box.

"No- not at all- try this one," he passed her the second wand. "Willow and Unicorn hair, 11 inches, springy- closer, but no." Again the wand was taken before it could be waved, and again another wand was produced.

"Elm and Unicorn hair, 10 ¾ inches, swishy."

Lisa took hold of the wand as Mr Ollivander held it out to her; almost at once, a smile unfurled across her face and as she waved the wand through the rather dusty air, dark blue sparks shot from like fireworks. Arthur, Jane, Webster, Susanne, Flavius, Marcus, Oliver, Rachel and Terry broke out into applause as Mr Ollivander beamed.

"Marvellous! Well done, Miss Turpin- you've found your wand!"

"Thanks, Mr Ollivander," Lisa smiled, hugging her wand tightly.

Terry went next. He held out his left arm, Mr Ollivander did his measurements and then the tape measure took over once again, as Mr Ollivander turned back to his shelves and began pulling down yet more boxes.

"Well, Mr Boot; let's see what we have here," he said, as he turned around and set the boxes down and the tape measure fell to the ground again. "… Ebony, Unicorn hair, 8 ¾ inches, Springy- no, no decidedly not!" Mr Ollivander reached across the counter, regaining possession of the wand before Terry could wave it.

"… Chestnut and Dragon heartstring, 14 inches, swishy- no!" Again, the wand was repossessed and returned to its box.

"…Yew and Dragon heartstring, 9 inches, rigid- yet again, closer, but no!" Mr Olivander cried, grabbing the wand as Terry made to wave it.

"Let's try this one, shall we…" Mr Ollivander held out a fourth wand. "Rosewood and Dragon heartstring 10 ¼ inches, rigid."

Terry took the wand, looking as though he expected Mr Ollivander to take it away again. But a split second later, he started to smile as Lisa had done and as he swished it through the air, rather bronze coloured sparks shot from its end. Applause broke out again as Mr Ollivander nodded vigorously.

"Wonderful- simply splendid! Felicitations on finding your wand, Mr. Boot!"

Thank you, sir," Terry grinned.

Sudden nerves mixed with the excitement in Rachel's stomach as Mr Ollivander gestured she step forwards. She did so, holding out her right arm and trying to keep as still as possible as Mr Ollivander and then the tape measure did their work; watching as Mr Ollivander took down more boxes.

"Right, then, Miss Belby, let's see here…" Mr Ollivander turned back to face the her; the tape measure fell to the ground as he set the boxes down, pulled a wand from one and held it out to her. "Alder and Phoenix feather, 15 inches, rigid," he said as Rachel took it. "No- no- not at all!" he cried a spilt second later, snatching it back urgently before Rachel could wave it. Replacing the wand to its box, he pulled out another.

"English oak and White River Monster spine, 13 inches, somewhat pliant… No! No, most definitely not!" Again the wand was snatched.

"… Mahogany and Dragon heartstring, 10 inches, reasonably pliant- No!" Mr Ollivander took the next wand away. "No matter, no matter, but not this wand…"

"… Another… Cedar and Unicorn hair, 10 ¼ inches, flexible."

Feeling slightly desperate and rather embarrassed, Rachel took the wand as it was held out to her. But once again, before she could wave it, Mr. Ollivander snatched it away.

"No- no! Not to worry, Miss Belby, we're getting closer- let's try this one…" he pulled a fifth wand from a box and held it out. "Hornbeam and Unicorn hair, 10 ¼ inches, flexible."

Her hopes rather low, Rachel took the wand. All of a sudden, she felt warmth spread up her fingers; and a smile broke out across her face. Relief and delight spreading through her, Rachel raised the wand and waved it through the air. Silver firework-like sparks shot from the end of it, and applause broke out across the shop for a third time.

Mr Ollivander beamed. "Excellent! Congratulations, Miss Belby- you've found your wand!"

"Thank you, sir." Rachel grinned, clutching her wand tightly in fist.

So it was that the Belbys, Boots and Turpins were all in high spirits as the adults payed for the wands, and they were all bowed from the shop by Mr Ollivander. Once outside, they exchanged both goodbyes and promises to meet on platform nine and three quarters and went their separate ways- The Boots starting their shopping by going to Madam Malkins; the Turpins by going to Flourish and Blotts; and the Belbys went to Scribbulus Writing Instruments, and then the Magical Menagerie for treats and food for Artemisia and Marcus's chosen 'congratulations-on-turning-eleven-and-getting-your-Hogwarts-letter' present: a pet rat he called Newt after Newt Scamander, the author of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them; before returning home.

Upon her entering her bedroom with her new wand, quills, parchment, ink, pencil case, and treats for Artemisia, Rachel couldn't help but smile. Ceesy had placed her new trunk and cauldron at the foot of her bed, and her new robes and textbooks on her bed; and the sight of them sent a thrill of excitement down Rachel's spine- in two days' time, she would be on the Hogwarts Express in a compartment with Lisa Terry and maybe Marcus and Oliver, too, on her way to being Sorted and her first ever year at Hogwarts. Her smile widening at the thought and the sight of her new belongings, Rachel hurried to her desk, pulled her brown leather bound notebook, an old quill and half empty ink pot from her desk drawer, opened her notebook to its second page, put the day's date at the top, and began to write down everything she could remember about her first ever trip to Diagon Alley for her very own school supplies, and her wand. It was a rather soppy thing to do, she knew; but the day was something she wanted to be able to remember for the rest of her life.

 **A/N: Please review! :)**


	3. Chapter 3: Family Dinner

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else that may be referenced in this chapter.**

 **A/N: thank you to you all for reading, reviewing, following and favouring and I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)**

 **Twitter: Prof_McGonagal**

 **Chapter 3: Family Dinner**

"Excuse me, everyone; may I have your attention?" Flavius stood up from his seat at the head of the table, his glass of elder-flower wine in his hand, and all conversation in the dining room ceased. It was the following evening; the night before the first of September; Flavius and Susanne had invited Flavius's mother, Elspeth; Susanne's sister Sophia- a short witch witch short blonde hair and bright green eyes-, her husband Elijah- a thickset wizard with straight black hair, and their nine-year-old daughter Mary- a petite girl, with bright green eyes, the same long, thick straight black hair as her father, and a spoilt, selfish and spiteful nature that did nothing to endear her to her cousins- to dinner, to say goodbye to Marcus and Rachel. "Thank you." Flavius smiled around at them all. "I would like to make a small speech to commemorate this occasion," he went on. "Tomorrow evening, Ravenclaw house with gain another member of the Belby family-"

"Hear, hear." Rachel's grandmother Elspeth said, smiling across the table at her. Flavius's mother was a tall, thin witch, with brown hair that was always piled atop her head in a bun and sharp brown eyes, who uniformly wore high necked robes of various shades of blue with a white ruffle collar; tall, spiky heeled boots of black dragon hide and a gold chained locket with a bronze, diamond shaped pendant. Elspeth was as proud of her family's Ravenclaw heritage as her son was, more so, even, or so Rachel had thought ever since the occurrence of what she referred to as the 'Great-several-times-over-Aunt Dorothy incident' the previous year.

On this same night exactly a year ago, excited about all aspects of the prospect of his first year at Hogwarts, Marcus had asked during his farewell dinner whether anyone in their family had ever been Sorted outside of Ravenclaw. Susanne, Flavius, Sophia, Elijah and Elspeth had exchanged terse glances; and it was then that Marcus, Rachel and then eight-year-old Mary had learned of Dorothy Belby, who was their Great-several-times-over-Aunt, and her being Sorted into Gryffindor two hundred and fifty years ago. Her Sorting had been a great blow to the Ravenclaw pride of the Belby family, and it was not something they liked to advertise, be reminded of, or discuss amongst themselves. Thus, the subject had been dropped.

But a few days after September first that year, still caught up in the excitement of her brother leaving for his first year at Hogwarts, Rachel had been reading about Ravenclaw House in her mother's copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ , and saw the word acceptance under the list of traits of the House. The tale of Great-several-times-over-Aunt Dorothy Belby and her sorting had returned to Rachel, and a question had entered up in her mind; a question that asked: if one of the traits of Ravenclaw was acceptance, why was Dorothy's being a Gryffindor treated with such shame? Though the idea of being sorted anywhere other than Ravenclaw horrified Rachel, she knew, logically, that it was hardly a crime.

Remembering the way her family had spoken of Dorothy, Rachel had tried to push the question away; but no matter how much she had tried to submerge herself in the rest of the pages about Ravenclaw, the question kept returning to the forefront of her mind. Finally, when she could stand wondering no longer, she had marked the original page of the book with her thumb, got to her feet, and left her bedroom in search of an answer.

Her grandmother had come to her house for dinner that day, and Rachel had found her and Flavius in the sitting room- Susanne was at work- drinking elderflower wine and discussing (her father with considerable scorn) Damocles. Not wanting to interrupt, Rachel had lingered awkwardly just short of the door, planning her approach in order to avoid a great upset with her father- for it was he that would ground her, not her grandmother- and waiting for a lull in the conversation. When one had finally come- following their discussion and grudging praise of his most celebrated invention to date, the Wolfsbane Potion- she had slipped into the room; clearing her throat as she did so.

"Hello, Rachel; is something wrong?" Flavius had asked.

"No- no, not at all," Rachel had answered carefully as she sat down beside him on the sofa adjacent to the armchair her grandmother occupied. "I just have a bit of a delicate question."

Flavius's eyebrows had risen slightly, as had Elspeth's, but Flavius's tone had not been discouraging as he gestured for her to continue.

"Ask away."

Rachel had taken a deep inward breath. _Showtime._ "I, um, I was just reading about Ravenclaw in here," she began, gesturing to the copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ on her lap. "Trying to get a head start, you know." She waited for her father and grandmother to nod, smiles on their faces, before opening the book at the page she marked with her thumb continuing. "There's a list of House traits on this page- wit; intelligence; wisdom; individuality; originality; creativity; and- and acceptance." Rachel curled her fingers over the top of the book before looking between her father and grandmother, speaking faster with every word. "And- and I know you don't like to talk about it and I'm sorry for bringing it up and I won't ever again, I promise, but it's been nagging at me-" Rachel slowed her words, looking at her father. "I wondered about Great-several-times-over-Aunt Dorothy- why her sorting wasn't accepted." Rachel had dropped her gaze to her shoes as she spoke, keeping her eyes fixed on her shoelaces as though nervous and embarrassed. A very pregnant pause had followed her words, but Rachel had kept her gaze on her shoes, sensing that her plan was working and the pause was not one of impending fury. Then, she had felt a hand on her shoulder.

"It's alright, Rachel," her father had said, and Rachel had looked up as though surprised and relieved. Though her father looked pained, there had also been understanding smile on his face. Elspeth, however, wore an angry, pinched expression, her head turned and gazed fixed upon the framed picture of an eight-year-old Marcus and a seven-year-old Rachel with Belby family's grey owl, Rowena that stood on the end table beside her armchair. "Though your Great-several-times-over-Aunt Dorothy is not someone we like to discuss, you were bound to wonder, seeing the word acceptance like that. The word acceptance is meant in the sense that members of Ravenclaw House usually accept and celebrate _eccentricity_ \- those who are quirky or have unusual intellectual interests, _not_ members of other Houses. Does that make sense?" he had asked, his tone gentle.

"Yes- thank you." Rachel had nodded with a small smile, standing up and closing the book as she spoke. "Sorry for the interruption; I won't bring Dorothy up again."

"See that you don't." Her grandmother said stiffly, clutching at the diamond shaped pendant of her locket, which rested against the ruffle of her collar, her lips thin.

"I appreciate that, Rachel," her father said with a smile, shooting his mother a look that only served to sour her expression further. "I'll let you know when Ceesy has dinner ready."

"Thanks." Rachel had nodded, smiling back and leaving the room. Only once she was back in her bedroom, the door shut safely behind her, had her small expanded into a triumphant grin, so thrilled was she by the proven cleverness of her approach. She had got her answer and avoided getting into trouble with her father: everything had gone according to plan.

"… and on that note," her father's slightly raised voice pulled Rachel from her revive. Realising she had missed practically all of her father's speech, Rachel hastened to sit up straighter and pay attention. "I would like to invite you all to raise your glasses and join me in toasting Rachel, as the Belby family's next future Ravenclaw; and Marcus, as the Belby family's present Ravenclaw." Flavius went on. "May they both respectively make and continue to make their house, and by extension the Belby family, proud." He raised his glass of elderflower wine. "To Rachel and Marcus."

"To Rachel and Marcus." echoed around the table as the adults raised their glasses of wine and Rachel, Marcus and Mary their glasses of pumpkin juice- the latter scowling, having not said a word. The three cousins had never gotten along; though the youngest of the three, Mary had always looked down upon her two cousins, refusing to share her toys or join in their games when they were younger; yet sulking when she was not the centre of attention. In her parents' eyes she could do no wrong, a fact Mary relished in whenever she was around and either Marcus or Rachel got into trouble, to such an extent that she took to making trouble for them whenever she could. Ignoring Mary, Rachel titled her glass towards Marcus, toasting him across the table as he did the same to her. A thrill of excitement ran down Rachel's spine as she sipped her drink and realised that in around about twenty-four hours' time she would be sitting with her brother at a different table; as a Ravenclaw; poised to make her house, and by extension, her family, proud, as her father had said.

 **A/N: Please review! :)**


	4. Chapter 4: Going to Hogwarts

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else that may be referenced in this chapter.**

 **A/N: Big thank you to you all. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)**

 **Twitter: Prof_McGonagal**

 **Chapter 4: Going to Hogwarts**

 _"To Rachel and Marcus." echoed around the table as the adults raised their glasses of wine and Rachel, Marcus and Mary their glasses of pumpkin juice- the latter scowling, having not said a word. The three cousins had never gotten along; though the youngest of the three, Mary had always looked down upon her two cousins, refusing to share her toys or join in their games when they were younger; yet sulking when she was not the centre of attention. In her parents' eyes she could do no wrong, a fact Mary relished in whenever she was around and either Marcus or Rachel got into trouble, to such an extent that she took to making trouble for them whenever she could. Ignoring Mary, Rachel titled her glass towards Marcus, toasting him across the table as he did the same to her. A thrill of excitement ran down Rachel's spine as she sipped her drink and realised that in around about twenty-four hours' time she would be sitting with her brother at a different table; as a Ravenclaw; poised to make her house, and by extension, her family, proud, as her father had said._

So excited was she by the prospect of going to Hogwarts the following day, that Rachel found it difficult to get to sleep that night. She kept tossing and turning from side to side, thoughts of attending Hogwarts and finally fulfilling the third step in her plan to become Minister for Magic- that being to be Sorted into Ravenclaw- racing through her mind. Thus, it was rather late at night by the time she fell asleep, and she awoke to the sound of her alarm blaring angrily and someone knocking loudly on her bedroom door.

"Rachel!" Susanne's voice called urgently from the other side of the door. "Rachel get up- we're going to miss the train if we don't hurry!"

"Wha- I'mawake!" Rachel half-called, half-mumbled, sitting up and fumbling frantically for the button that silenced her alarm and her glasses. Finding the button and silencing her alarm, Rachel continued to search for her glasses. Finding them, too, she shoved them crookedly onto the end of her nose and got of of bed, crossing her bedroom and taking some clothes from her wardrobe and leaving her bedroom, rubbing her eyes behind her glasses.

"Morning- Marcus's in the en suite," Susanne said, as Rachel emerged from her bedroom. Susanne looked very frazzled indeed. "Your father's ordered a car from the Ministry- we have to leave in half an hour to get to the station on time so shower and get dressed as quickly as possible- you packed last night like I told you too, didn't you?"

"Yes I did- and good morning." Rachel replied as the doorbell echoed up through the house from the floor below.

"Ceesy will bring your trunk and Artemisia downstairs when you're ready," Susanne said to Rachel, turning and hurrying down the stairs to answer the door as Rachel crossed the landing to the bathroom. Having showered and dressed faster than she ever had before, Rachel emerged from the bathroom some ten minutes later, now wide awake, practically buzzing with excitement at the thought of going to Hogwarts and following her family's footsteps and being sorted into Ravenclaw and wondering who had been at the door as she ran down the stairs to the dining room in search of breakfast.

"Good morning Rachel." Rachel's Grandmother Elspeth smiled at her from a seat at the dining table, answering Rachel's wonderings as the girl entered the dining room.

"Good morning," Rachel replied with a smile, sitting down opposite her Grandmother and beside her mother at the table and reaching for the toast rack Ceesy had just set on the table. "Morning Dad."

"Morning." Her father grinned at her, looking over the top of his copy of the Daily Prophet, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a filled money bag. "Here's twenty galleons for you to spend while you're away; I know first years aren't allowed to go to Hogsmede, but you might want to by some food on the Hogwarts' Express or order something for yourself or buy your Christmas presents from _the Daily Prophet_ or _Witch Weekly_ or something before the Christmas holidays. You shouldn't need anymore than that, but if you do just write. Looking forward to your sorting?"

"Thank you- and yeah," Rachel nodded, grinning back and pocketing the money bag.

"Hi, everyone," Marcus said, entering the room and sitting down beside Elspeth.

"Morning, Marcus. Here's your money for the year; twenty galleons- you shouldn't need anymore, but of you do just write," Flavius said, taking a second money bag the same size as the one he had given Rachel from his pocket and holding it out to his son.

"Thank you." Marcus grinned, taking it. What are you doing here, Gran?" he asked her curiously as he pocketed his moneybag. "Last year you came to see me off because I was the first person with the Belby name to go to Hogwarts since Dad and Un- since Dad." He amended himself, catching his mother's warning eye. "What's special about Rachel?"

"Marcus!" Susanne admonished, frowning disapprovingly.

"Thank you, Marcus." Rachel raised her eyebrows, spreading jam over her toast. "I think you're special, too."

"You know what I mean." Marcus waved his fork about vaguely apologetically.

"Well, Marcus, you may have been the first Belby to go to Hogwarts in a few decades," Elspeth explained, "but your sister is the first female Belby to go to Hogwarts in several generations, something that is just as important, and, as the oldest person to bear the Belby name, it is only right that I am there to see her off for her first year, as I did you."

"Right," Marcus nodded amicably, stabbing at a piece of bacon with his fork.

"Hurry up and eat quickly, you two," Susanne said to her children, glancing rather anxiously at her watch. "The car will be here in twenty minutes."

"That's ages, though." Rachel pointed out; Marcus nodded, agreeing, his mouth full of bacon. Susanne pursed her lips.

"You say that now," She said, taking a sip of her tea. "But you just wait and see."

Some ten minutes later, both Rachel and Marcus were feeling slightly panicked. Rachel could hear Marcus frantically rummaging through his trunk, checking he had everything, as she brushed her teeth in the bathroom. Marcus called for Ceesy as Rachel finished cleaning her teeth and the sound of Ceesy apparating into his bedroom surrounded Rachel as she left the bathroom, shoving a black headband rather lopsidedly onto her head to keep her hair in place as she went. Entering her own bedroom, Rachel pushed her glasses up her nose and started to make sure she, too, had everything packed.

Having made sure that she had indeed packed everything she needed, Rachel stuffed her Hogwarts letter into her trunk for good measure, before closing the lid and glancing at the clock beside her bed- Artemisia had gone out hunting the night before; she usually returned between nine forty-five and ten-fifteen, and the time was ten minutes past ten. Just as she was re-filling Artemisia's water and food trays so that her owl would be comfortable on the train journey to Hogwarts, Artemisia herself came flying around the large tree in front of Rachel's house and through the girl's open bedroom window, perching atop her cage. If the half of a dead frog hanging from her beak was any indication, her hunt had been successful.

"Hey, A," Rachel smiled, stroking Artemisia's wing as her owl devoured the remainder of the toad. "Good night?"

Artemisia hooted softly, blinking rather sleepily at Rachel as she finished her frog. Rachel took that to mean 'yes.'

"Good," she said, opening Artemisia's cage with her free hand as the doorbell echoed up to her bedroom from downstairs. "We're going to Hogwarts today A," she said excitedly, helping Artemisia into her cage. "You'll be able to fly around as much as you like without any Muggles catching so sight of you and sleep in the Owlery with all the other owls."

But what Artemisia thought of the changes that would be happening in her life Rachel didn't know; for practically the moment after her talons curled around the wooden perch inside her cage, Artemisia seemed to snuggle down, then tucked her head under her left wing and fell asleep.

Hoping Artemisia wouldn't mind being disturbed too much, Rachel stepped out of her bedroom, clearing her throat as she did so.

"Ceesy!"

 _CRACK!_

"Yes, Mistress?" Ceesy asked, curtseying as she apparated onto the lading looking up at Rachel through her large, light blue eyes.

"Can you take my trunk and Artemisia downstairs, please?" Rachel asked with a smile.

"Of course Mistress," Ceesy nodded, smiling back and adjusting the position of the knot that tied her crisp white tea towel around her like a toga on her shoulders as she entered Rachel's bedroom.

Glancing at her watch, Rachel ran downstairs to the front door, joining Marcus in leaning against the wall beside the door, opposite the hallway mirror. Marcus's trunk and cage that housed his pet rat Newt stood beside him; but the cage was empty. Looking around, Rachel caught sight of Newt curled up on Marcus's left shoulder, his claws digging into the shoulder of Marcus's t-shirt. Rachel moved away slightly; despite the fact that she stood to Marcus's right and had been assured time and time again that Newt would leave her alone if she left him alone, she was not the biggest fan of rodents- their small dark eyes had always somewhat spooked her.

"Here you are, Mistress." Ceesy came down the stairs after Rachel, Artemisia's cage in her arms and the girl's trunk floating along down the stairs behind her.

"Thank you, Ceesy." Rachel smiled, taking Artemisia's cage from Ceesy and setting it down atop her trunk as it turned in mid-air and set itself down vertically beside Marcus's. Artemisia shifted slightly on her perch, but her head remained firmly under her wing, as though she was determined to sleep.

"Marcus! Rachel!" Susanne called as she emerged from the sitting room with Flavius and Elspeth. "Hurry up- the car is due any- oh." She stopped short upon catching sight of her children standing by the door with Ceesy and their things.

"Told you we had ages." Rachel smirked triumphantly. Marcus snickered, stretching up onto the tips of his toes and peering through one of the three triangular frosted glass panels in the front door.

"The car's here." He announced.

"Well, we'd best get going, then," Susanne said quickly, pushing her hair from her face. "Put Newt back in his cage and grab hold of your trunk- Ceesy; go and start on lunch, please- just some sandwiches or something simple, don't worry yourself too much."

"Yes Mistress," Ceesy nodded. "Have a good term, Master Marcus; Mistress Rachel."

"Thanks, Ceesy," Rachel smiled. "See you at Christmas."

"Yeah- take care Ceesy." Marcus said, smiling, too

Ceesy smiled back at them both, curtseyed and disapparated.

Once Marcus had put Newt into his cage and got hold of both the cage and his trunk as Rachel had hold of hers, the Belby family left the house. The Boot's house across the street was clearly empty- it looked as though they had already left for St. Mungo's to visit Sally. The day was a beautiful summer's one; so much so, in fact, that the Belby's sour-faced elderly neighbour Edith Dawson was outside, planting some seeds in a flower pot that hung from her sitting room window. She merely sniffed in response to the Belby's greetings, casting dark, suspicious looks at Marcus and Rachel's trunks and pets.

"Miserable old bat," Susanne said softly under her breath. "Nothing to worry about, though- it'll be decades before she figures anything out, and if she does it can be taken care of. Oh, look- they've given us the bigger car we requested, excellent."

The car looked like a perfectly normal, if not slightly old fashioned, dark green Muggle five seater car from the outside; the driver, too, looked like a perfectly normal Muggle man- despite the fact that his suit was the same shade of green as the car- as he got out of the car to help load the trunks into the boot. Marcus and Rachel's trunks fit neatly and with ease into the apparently small boot, and the entire family fit comfortably into the car. Susanne, Marcus and Rachel sat on the three seats in the back of the car- the latter two with their pets' cages' on their laps- while Flavius and Elspeth sat on the magically expanded passenger's seat in the front of the car with the driver, who introduced himself as Norman Prang, and discussed wizarding news such as Fudge's latest Ministry reform and the break in at Gringotts on the thirty-first of July.

It did not take them long to reach Kings Cross Station; the Ministry of Magic car soon proved itself capable of slipping into gaps that the cars around them certainly couldn't have fit into, and at times managed to jump long traffic jams and traffic lights in their entirety. By a quarter to eleven, the family had got out of the car, loaded Marcus and Rachel's trunks and pets onto two trolleys, said thank you and goodbye to Norman Prang and were walking through the bustling station towards the entrance to Platform nine and three-quarters. Rachel felt more excited with every step she took; her mind was full of thoughts of going to Hogwarts, fulfilling the third step of her plan, and making her house and family proud.

A plump, redheaded woman and a young girl who could only be her daughter disappeared through the barrier that was the wall and Muggle ticket box between platforms nine and ten as the Belbys reached it.

"Shall we let the newest edition to Ravenclaw go through first?" Elspeth suggested with a smile, taking in the excitement in Rachel's expression.

"Yes, I think so," Flavius agreed, smiling at Rachel, too, as he gestured towards the barrier. "I assume you know what to do?"

"I think so," Rachel replied with a grin. Tightening her grip on the handle of her trolley, she straightened it so that it faced the barrier, took a deep breath and broke out into a run, her gaze fixed on the brick wall and Muggle ticket box that would take her to the Hogwarts Express. Her footsteps pounded loudly in her ears as she ran, getting closer and closer to the barrier with every step she took… moments away from the barrier, Rachel couldn't help but close her eyes tightly, in anticipation of the SMACK! and pain that she knew, logically, wouldn't come…

And it didn't… Rachel kept running for a few more steps, just to make sure; then slowed her pace and opened her eyes.

She was standing on platform nine and three quarters. Witches and Wizards of all ages swarmed the platform, those of Hogwarts' age saying goodbye to their families, greeting their friends and climbing aboard the scarlet school train that billowed clouds of white smoke all over the station. Rachel smiled, feeling a thrill of excitement as she caught sight of the sign above her head, which read _**Hogwarts Express, 11 o'clock.**_

"Hasn't changed that much in a few months, has it?"

Rachel turned as Marcus fell into step beside her, having passed through the barrier, which on this side looked like an archway wrought out of iron emblazoned with _**Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.**_

"Not at all," she replied, "It's just last year I was here to see you off, and now I'm getting on the train and going with you, so it feels a bit different."

"Yeah, I imagine it would," Marcus nodded.

"Marcus- there you are, mate!" Oliver came out of nowhere, looking excited. "You won't believe this- Lee Jordan, that Gryffindor in the year above who hangs out with the Weasley twins; he's bought a tarantula back with him and he's talking about putting an Engorgement Charm on it! Oh, hello Rachel." He added, smiling.

"Hi." She replied, smiling back.

"A tarantula- wicked!" Marcus grinned, looking as excited as Oliver. "How big is it now?"

"Dunno- he's never opened the box enough for anyone to see anything more than a leg or an eye." Oliver said. "He's saying he's going to make it bigger when the train leaves. Terry and Lisa- she arrived a little before you two- are keeping a compartment beside his so we can get good seats."

"Great!" Marcus grinned, tightening his grip on his trolley. "Well, we'd better go and-"

"Not so fast, dear Marcus." Susanne's voice sounded from behind them; turning, Marcus and Rachel saw that their parents and Grandmother had come through the barrier and were behind them, smiling. "Your decrepit mother and father wish for you both to say goodbye to them and your grandmother before you embark on whatever adventure that is consuming your thoughts at present. Hello, Oliver- how is your mother?"

"Hello- she isn't any better, but she isn't any worse, either," Oliver replied. "The Healer's say that can be a good sign, so we're still hopeful."

"That's good," Flavius smiled. "Is your father here?"

"No; Mr Bagman wanted him to go into work." Oliver explained. "He said to say hello, and he'll see you for coffee on Wednesday."

"Excellent- thank you." Flavius nodded.

Susanne glanced at her watch. "We'd better say our goodbyes near the train," she said. "The whistle's going to go off soon."

Marcus and Oliver, the former clearly following the latter, lead the way down the platform to a carriage only in the middle of the train, talking so quietly Rachel couldn't hear what they were saying, and in any case, she was feeling far too excited at the prospect of going to Hogwarts to try and find out. The two boys' conversation ceased abruptly as they reached the train, and, together with Flavius, they lifted both Artemisia and Newt in their cages, and then Marcus and Rachel's trunks into the train. Oliver said goodbye and climbed on board after the trunks, waiting beside them while Marcus and Rachel said goodbye to their family.

Looking rather guarded now they were so close to the school train, Marcus permitted Susanne to kiss him on the cheek and shook hands with Flavius, who looked very much as though he was fighting back a grin. Elspeth, however, paid no mind to Marcus's reputation as she engulfed him a bear hug. Rachel bit back a grin, hearing Oliver snigger as Marcus hugged Elspeth back briefly and managed to politely squirm away, his cheeks bright pink.

Rachel turned to her mother as Marcus boarded the train. A lump rose in her throat- she had never been away from home for more than a few nights, when she had stayed at either her Grandmother's, the Boots', or the Turpins', and she had a feeling that she was going to miss her parents and her house. Rachel swallowed thickly, telling herself sternly that she would not make an idiot of herself by crying in front of everybody on the platform.

"I'll see you at Christmas," she said to her mother. Susanne nodded, looking rather as though she was fighting back tears herself as she hugged her daughter tightly.

"You will make Ravenclaw very proud, my dear," Flavius said to Rachel as he, too hugged her; he had said something similar to Marcus the year before, Rachel remembered. She nodded into his shoulder, blinking back tears. Only once she was sure that she did not look at all as though she was on the point of crying did she lift her head from her father's shoulder and turn to her Grandmother as Flavius straightened up.

Elspeth smiled at Rachel, then glanced at her watch. "If my old memory serves me correctly, we still have a few minutes before the whistle is set to go off." She said. "In light of this, Rachel; may I speak with you alone?"

Surprised, Rachel nodded. "Sure." She said, and followed her grandmother a short way away from her parents and the train.

Elspeth's hands rose to her neck as she turned to face her granddaughter, and Rachel saw with a jolt of surprise that her grandmother was removing the gold chained locket with a bronze, diamond shaped pendant that she had worn uniformly even in Rachel's earliest memories.

"My mother, Geraldine Fronsac, cleaned and then gave me this necklace on the 1st of September 1918, my first ever day at Hogwarts," Elspeth began. "She told me that her mother had cleaned and given it to her on the first day of her first year at Hogwarts, and she was carrying on the tradition. I had always hoped to do the same, however, I doubted that either of my two sons would have much use for a woman's necklace. I would like for you to have it."

"Me?" Rachel asked, her eyes widening in surprise.

Elspeth nodded. "Yes, you." She said with a smile. "And not only because you are the only remaining female in my family line. Truth be told, Rachel Elspeth Belby, you remind me a little of myself when I was your age in a few of your mannerisms; and quite a lot of my mother, too, based on all the tales I heard of her youth growing up. So much so that I think that even though you are my granddaughter as opposed to my daughter, my dear mother would have loved to know that the tradition is being carried on."

As her grandmother smiled at her anew, Rachel was visited by a wave of memories, a few standing out more than the rest She was four years old, standing on a footstool and stirring a bowl full of cake batter with the utmost concentration. The bowl was being held by her grandmother, who was full of words of encouragement as she taught Rachel how to bake a cake. Then she was seven, dressed in a bright red raincoat and holding tightly to her grandmother's hand as they walked along the shop lined street of the village of Hogsmede for the day; intent on getting Elspeth's mantelpiece radio fixed before going to Honeydukes for a lollypop. Finally, she was nine, sitting beside her Grandmother on the plush floral sofa in her grandmother's living room; rain pounding against the windows outside and the wireless radio on the mantelpiece softly crooning Celestina Warbeck's _'You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me,'_ as both Elspeth and Rachel read books- Elspeth: _Year with the Yeti_ by Gilderoy Lockhart and Rachel, in her quest to find out as much as she could about the position of Minster for Magic- _Magical Moral Perspective in Minister's for Magic,_ by Cygnus Observer. Rachel felt a renewed rush of affection for her grandmother at the thoughts, and returned Elspeth's smile.

"I would love to wear the necklace." She said. "Thank you very much."

Elspeth's smile widened. "Thank you for accepting," she said. "In keeping with the tradition; allow me to wipe the slate clean for you," she said, and took her wand from her pocket, tapping it to the necklace. _"Emundabit."_ She said.

At once, a wave of soapy water poured from the tip of her wand and covered the entirely of the necklace, from it's clasp to the very tip of the pendant of even the inside of the pendant, which had opened, released a lone, diamond shaped photograph-which had faded so much it was impossible to see what it once was, and flew into Elspeth's pocket.

"My mother said that this allows for the necklace to hold new memories, your memories, my dear." Elspeth said, slipping the necklace around Rachel's neck and sealing the clasp at the front before turning the necklace around so that the pendant rested against the front of Rachel's t-shirt. Comforted by the feeling of having something to remind her of her grandmother and by extension her family and her home, Rachel covered the pendant with her hand, just as the whistle of the Hogwarts Express pierced the air.

"Rachel! Hurry!" Flavius called.

Rachel and Elspeth hurried back across the platform; Rachel smiling at Marcus and Oliver as they helped her into the carriage.

"Have a good term, both of you," Susanne said, as the train door swung shut and Marcus and Rachel leant out of its window. "And Marcus- look after your sister!"

"Don't worry, Mum!" Marcus grinned as the train began to move. "Rachel is perfectly safe with me!"

"Yeah, don't worry Mum!" Rachel nodded. "I'll be fine!"

"See that you are!" Susanne called with a laugh, starting to wave with Flavius and Elspeth as the train pulled away from the station, and began to move along the tracks.

Marcus and Rachel waved back vigorously until the train rounded the corner and Platform nine and three quarters disappeared from view. They grinned at each other and Oliver excitedly as they ducked back into the train and took hold of their things. Her upset forgotten, Rachel felt yet another thrill of excitement as she followed Marcus and Oliver down the carriage with her trunk and Artemisia in her cage: at last, she was on her way to Hogwarts.

 **A/N: Please review! :)**


	5. Chapter 5: Step Three

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else that may be referenced in this chapter. The** _ **bold, italic, underline text**_ **is a direct quote from the Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone book.**

 **A/N: Enormous thank you to you all for reading, reviewing, following and favouring and I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)**

 **Twitter: Prof_McGonagal**

 **Chapter 5: Step Three**

 _Marcus and Rachel waved back vigorously until the train rounded the corner and Platform nine and three quarters disappeared from view. They grinned at each other and Oliver excitedly as they ducked back into the train and took hold of their things. Her upset forgotten, Rachel felt yet another thrill of excitement as she followed Marcus and Oliver down the carriage with her trunk and Artemisia in her cage: at last, she was on her way to Hogwarts._

Rachel looked around her curiously as she followed Marcus and Oliver down the carriage, dragging her trunk and Artemisia in her cage. The compartments on either side of the carriage around them were full of students talking and laughing. Marcus and Oliver raised their hands in greeting to and in return to those in some of the compartments, and glared at and in return to those in others.

"What did they do to you?" Rachel asked Marcus in a whisper, following his and Oliver's particularly intense glare off with a compartment of boys around their age.

"Slytherins." He muttered explanatorily.

"This is us," Oliver announced, pausing in front of a compartment almost halfway down the carriage. Looking through the glass door as Oliver slid it open, Rachel saw Terry and Lisa sitting opposite each other, talking animatedly; Terry with his pet brown rat Steven on his shoulder, and Lisa with her white cat Snowball curled up in her lap. The two looked around as Oliver, Marcus and Rachel entered the compartment and lifted the latter two's trunks and pets' cages up onto the luggage racks, where Oliver, Terry and Lisa's trunks were. Along with Oliver's brown owl Cocoa in his cage and the cage and carrier of Terry and Lisa's respective pets.

"Hey." Terry and Lisa grinned. Marcus and Rachel replied in kind as they sat down with Oliver; Rachel beside Lisa, Marcus beside her and Oliver beside his brother.

"We were just talking about being Sorted," Terry said. "How do you think the Sorting Hat is able to do what it does? Lisa thinks it's a charm, but I think it's a bit more complicated than just a charm- it'll be a spell specifically invented for the hat."

"Who knows?" Oliver said with a shrug. "But it's not just the Sorting Hat you've got to deal with, you know."

"What are you talking about?" Lisa asked, her forehead creasing slightly.

"There's more to being sorted than just putting on the hat," Oliver said. "There're two parts to behind Sorted- the bit with the Sorting Hat and something that comes before it."

"And what's that?" Lisa asked, scratching Snowball behind her ears.

Oliver and Marcus exchanged glances. "…I don't think we should tell you." Oliver said after a moment. "We're not supposed too."

"…Fine," Rachel shrugged nonchalantly, pushing her glasses up her nose. "It's not like it's actually true, anyway."

"It is true!" Oliver protested indignantly. "And what's more it's a test!"

Rachel grinned inwardly; she'd thought that one of them would take the bait. "What sort of test?" she asked, making her tone sceptical.

"A test that reveals your nature," Marcus explained, looking rather indignant at being disbelieved, too. "You have to get past a Sphinx to collect a galleon."

"That's not true." Terry frowned, looking disbelieving. "We can't be asked to face a Sphinx- we're only eleven for Merlin's sake."

"Yes it is true." Marcus said, nodding defiantly.

"Then how come we haven't heard about it before?" Rachel asked. "Surely Dad or someone would have mentioned it."

"They ask you to keep it a secret so that future first years can't prepare in advance- they want your most authentic, impulsive reaction, see; and everyone does, so they get the best people for their House, in their House." Marcus said. "You know how Ravenclaw proud Dad is- he wouldn't jeopardise Ravenclaw's success for anything. See, Sphinxes are beasts that when faced, will give you riddle. If you get the riddle right, they let you pass peacefully, but if you get it wrong, they attack you. How you get past the Sphinx gives the professors and the Sorting Hat a good idea of your nature before you're actually Sorted- Ravenclaws solve the riddle; Gryffindors fight the Sphinx; Slytherins do a bit of both and some fast talking while they get around it; and Hufflepuffs, well, Hufflepuffs tend to try and reason with the Sphinx; doesn't always work but they solve the riddle eventually." Marcus grinned. "It's a good system; actions speak louder than words."

"See? It makes sense." Oliver said smugly, pausing as he caught sight of something. "Hey, Marc, isn't that the Weasley twins?" he nodded towards the corridor outside.

Curious, Rachel, Terry and Lisa turned to look out of the glass door of their compartment as Marcus did. Two red headed boys who looked about a year older than Marcus and Oliver and who were absolutely identical right down to the placement of the freckles on their faces, were passing the compartment.

"Yeah, it is," Marcus nodded, "Lee Jordan must be about to put an Engorgement Charm on the tarantula- he wouldn't do it unless they were there; they're his best mates after all."

"We'd better go and get a good seat then," Oliver said, standing up; Marcus did the same. "You three want to come?" Oliver asked.

"To see someone enlarge a tarantula?" Lisa shuddered. "No, thank you."

"I will." Terry stood up, grinning.

"No thanks," Rachel shook her head as the boys turned to her. "Spiders remind me a bit of rats- same small, spooky dark eyes."

"Don't listen to her, Steven, you've got beautiful eyes." Terry said, stroking Steven's nose with his index finger.

"Yeah- and you, Newt," Marcus called to his pet as the three boys left the compartment for the one next door.

Glancing out of the window, Rachel saw that the Hogwarts Express had well and truly taken them out and away from London while they had been debating the validity of Marcus and Oliver's claims. Now the train was carrying them speedily through the countryside, passing fields full of cows and sheep.

"…Marcus and Oliver- they're not really telling the truth, are they?" Lisa asked after a moment. Rachel saw that she looked very nervous indeed. "About the test before the Sorting Hat, I mean."

Rachel thought for a moment, chewing her lip slightly, but then shook her head. "…No, I don't think they are." She answered. "They were talking in very low voices on the way over to the train when we were back on platform nine and three quarters- and think about the Muggleborns. They never would have heard of Hogwarts before getting their letters. It would be cruel of the professors to put them- never mind us- against a Sphinx on their very first day- then there's the fact that we _are_ eleven and haven't been taught any kind of magic yet."

"Yeah- yeah, you're right," Lisa nodded. "And if we do have to solve a riddle- whether it be from a Sphinx or otherwise- I'm sure we're more than capable of doing so."

"'Course." Rachel nodded, grinning back. "We'll be fine."

A rattling nose suddenly echoed down the carriage and an elderly, slightly hunchbacked witch with grey hair and kind brown eyes looked in.

"Would either of you like something from the trolley?"

"Yes, please." Lisa stood up, smiling and reached for her trunk. Rachel nodded, smiling too, and did the same, and having collected their money, the two girls stepped out of their compartment. An enormous trolley full of sweets surrounded by waiting students stood a little way down from their compartment and Lisa and Rachel hastened to join the students around the trolley in waiting for the elderly lady's return from peering to the rest of the compartments. She arrived a few minutes later, with a small crowds of students behind her, including Marcus, Oliver and Terry. Some ten minutes and a slight struggle later, Rachel and Lisa returned to their compartment with Cauldron Cakes and few Liquorice Wands and a packet of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans each. Marcus, Oliver and Terry, along with several other students entered the compartment beside theirs, clutching similar purchases and wondering aloud just how big Lee Jordan could make the tarantula before things gout out of hand and he had to shrink it again.

When Marcus, Oliver and Terry returned from the compartment next door, they were accompanied by two girls about Marcus and Oliver's age. One of them was a pretty, petite Asian girl with long shiny inky black hair, brown eyes and an array of freckles across her nose. The other girl was tall and pale, with thick, curly reddish-blonde hair and light green eyes set rather closely together, giving her something of a sly look. But both she and the Asian girl smiled friendlily enough as they entered the compartment behind the boys and introduced themselves as Marietta Edgecombe and Cho Chang respectively.

"Well, that Tarantula grew to the size of a dinner plate." Terry informed Lisa and Rachel with a grin as he sat down opposite the former. "It was so cool!"

"Good to know." Lisa said; though she looked rather white at the thought.

"You don't mind if we join you, do you girls?" Cho Chang asked after Rachel and Lisa introduced themselves, too. "I don't know of you know him, but a Slytherin boy in our year, Terence Higgs, is in the compartment opposite ours and he will not stop bragging in a very loud voice about his summer in Egypt. It's unbearable, so we're waiting for another Slytherin boy in our year- Sebastian Parkinson- to do one of the only things he does that isn't snide and Transfigure Higgs' head into a pumpkin to shut him up before we go back- and the boys agreed we could stay here for a bit; that is, if you have no objection?"

"No, that's fine," Rachel smiled back, rather amused, finishing the last of her sweets and stuffing all of her wrappers into the pocket of her thin woollen jacket. Lisa shoved her own sweet wrappers into her own pocket and agreed, too, looking as amused as Rachel felt, and Cho and Marietta sat down; Cho beside Marcus, and Marietta opposite her, beside Oliver.

As they did so, someone knocked on the compartment door, then it slid open and a blonde haired, plump, round faced boy with blue eyes of around Rachel, Lisa and Terry's age entered. He looked as though he was about to burst into tears.

"Hello." He said, his voice rather shaky. "Sorry to interrupt, but have any of you caught sight of a toad?"

"No, sorry." Marcus said, as the others shook their heads.

The boy sighed miserably. "I promised Gran I wouldn't lose him again," he said gloomily.

"My older cousin had a toad once," Marietta Edgecombe said comfortingly. "He lost it at least ten times a week, but Croaker always came back in the end. They're surprisingly adventurous creatures, toads, but they like familiar surroundings, too. Yours will come back, you'll see."

"I hope so," The boy replied, managing a smile. "Well, I'll be walking up and down the train looking if you spot him."

Turning, he left the compartment, closing the door behind him.

"Anyone up for Exploding Snap?" Oliver asked. A chorus of assent followed and he stood up to retrieve a pack of playing cards from his trunk.

"Did you hear the Weasley twins saying that Harry Potter's on the train?" Marietta Edgecombe asked as Oliver sat down with the cards and opened the packet, holding the cards in his open hand. Immediately, the cards began to shuffle themselves.

"Apparently he's starting at Hogwarts this year." Marietta continued.

"Really?" Rachel's mouth fell open slightly. If this was true, she might share a class with the defeater of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The thought was rather an incredible one.

"Yeah- I heard the twins saying they asked him if he was Harry Potter, and he said 'yes.'" Marcus confirmed, nodding. "They said he seemed a bit quiet and shy, even, but a nice bloke."

"Did they say whereabouts on the train he is?" Lisa asked, looking awed.

"Only a few down from this one- near the end." Marcus said. "Once word gets round, the poor kid's going to be stared at an awful lot."

"D'you think he remembers anything- like, what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named looked like?" Terry asked, sounding unnerved at the very thought.

Oliver snorted. "I doubt it- he was only about one at the time, or something." He said. "But if he does and tells anyone, I daresay we'll hear all about it. Word will spread like wildfire and it'll probably reach the Daily Prophet." He pushed his hair from his eyes and picked up the cards as they finished shuffling. "Who wants to deal first?"

"I will." Cho Chang raised her hand and took the cards from Oliver with a smile. Holding the deck in one hand, she started to deal the cards out to them all in turn, and the subject of Harry Potter and his arrival at Hogwarts was dropped as their first game commenced.

"...Well, we'd better go and get changed into our robes, Cho," Marietta said, getting to her feet upon the conclusion of their seventh game, as the lanterns in the luggage rack of the compartments and carriage outside sparkled into life. The sky outside was now a rich purple and was steadily darkening; now, too, instead of fields of sheep and cows, they were passing forests and mountains; the train, too, felt as though it was slowing down. "We'll be at Hogwarts in a minute."

"Yes, I think so." Cho agreed, getting to her feet too. "Thank you for letting us stay."

"Yeah, thanks." Marietta nodded.

"Anytime," Oliver said with a smile. "You think Higgs will have a pumpkin for a head now?"

"Oh, definitely," Marietta smiled back. "See you at dinner."

"Bye." Cho waved as she and Marietta left the compartment.

"Bye." Those still in the compartment replied in kind.

"We'd better get changed, too, now I come to think of it." Marcus said standing up and pressing his hands to the glass of the window as he looked out of it. "I reckon I can see the platform."

Taking his word for it, Rachel and Lisa stood up, too, retrieved their robes from their respective trunks and left the compartment in search of a place to change. Finding a small queue of girls waiting with their own robes outside a bathroom at the end of their carriage, Rachel and Lisa joined onto the end behind a rather haughty looking tall girl, with platinum blonde hair and dark green eyes about their own age and waited their turn.

As the two emerged from the bathroom, having changed, a voice echoed across the train.

"Attention students: we will be arriving at Hogwarts in about five minutes. Please leave all your belongings on the train- they will be taken up to the castle separately."

Rachel felt a wave of an odd mix of nerves and excitement. She exchanged a glance with Lisa, who looked as nervous and excited as Rachel felt, as the girls made their way back to their compartment to return their Muggle clothes to their trunks. Marcus, Oliver and Terry were waiting for them. They, too, had changed into their robes- Terry's were plain black with a small Hogwarts crest pinned to the plain black tie, like Rachel and Lisa; Marcus and Oliver, however, wore dark blue ties striped in with bronze; badges adorned with the Ravenclaw crest were pinned to the front of their robes and the inside of the hoods pinned to their robes was made up of a silky-looking, royal blue coloured cloth.

"First years travel across the Black Lake to get to the castle- by boat I mean," Marcus said to Rachel as she and Lisa finished stuffing their clothes in their trunks, Lisa coaxed Snowball into her basket-cage (Steven was already back in his cage), and the five of them left the compartment and joined the crowd of students standing in the corridor of the carriage. "They leave their pets on the train too, but older students have to take their pets off the train with them and go up to school in carriages- so we'll have to split up soon."

Rachel nodded mutely. Her nerves were starting to slightly outweigh her excitement, helped along by the news that she would have to go on a boat, which was quite possibly her least favourite form of transport, as it involved going across stretches of water, something she was none too keen on.

"Hey, relax, Rachel." Marcus squeezed her wrist gently, smiling comfortingly as the train slowed to a stop. "You'll be fine- the boats never sink."

Rachel managed a smile back, but did not have time to voice a response before the crowd around them started to push forwards; someone had opened the carriage door. Rachel moved forwards with Marcus, Oliver, Terry and Lisa, and when she jumped down from the train, she found herself standing on a small, dark platform. Shivering in the cool night air, Rachel looked up as a deep voice preceded a lamp high in the air over to the students.

"'scue me- firs' years, come over here! All firs' years over here, please! You, alright over there, Harry?"

A shadow of a simply enormous man paused on the station- the lamp swinging back and forth in his hand and throwing him into sharp relief. Rachel couldn't help but stare slightly- he was a giant man in a thick black coat. His face was almost completely obscured by a great amount of long, rather shaggy thick black hair and a wild, knotted beard. At first, Rachel was slightly alarmed, but relaxed when she saw that what little that could be seen of his face as well as his small, beetle black eyes, were kindly in expression, and became even more so as he beamed at someone. Rachel looked around to see who the man was shouting to, but the crowd swarmed around her anew, making her efforts fruitless.

"Who's that man?" She asked Marcus, raising her voice to be heard over the chattering of the students swarming the tiny platform around them.

"That's Hagrid- he's the gamekeeper; and he looks after the grounds, too," Marcus replied. "He supervises the first years' crossing the Lake. You, Lisa and Terry go over there with the rest of the firsties, and I'll see you in the Great Hall for dinner." He grinned. "I'll save you a seat- and you, Lisa."

Rachel grinned back as Lisa smiled.

"I'd save you one, too, Terry," Oliver said with a grin. "But I've never been too sure you're Ravenclaw material."

Terry scowled. "Shut up." He said as Lisa and Rachel giggled.

"Come on, follow me- are there any more firs' years?" the man- Hagrid- called. Rachel, Lisa and Terry quickly said goodbye to Marcus and Oliver- the latter rather grudgingly to his brother- and hurried to join the crowd of children of their own age that was quickly gathering before Hagrid.

"Righ' then- now make sure you all watch yer step!" Hagrid called. "All firs' years, please follow me!"

The first years, stumbling and slipping slightly, trekked along after Hagrid down what appeared to be a rather narrow, steep and very dark path- so dark a path, in fact, that Rachel rather thought the path must be surrounded by a dense forest, but it was too dark to be sure. None of the first years spoke very much. The only somewhat consistent sound was someone behind Terry sniffing a few times, but Rachel could not see who it was.

"Yeh all will get yer firs' glimpse o' Hogwarts in just a min," Hagrid said, turning his head to speak to the first years. "It's jus' round here- pas' this turn."

The first years rounded the bend moments later, and a loud "Oooooh!" followed.

The rather narrow path had suddenly widened considerably, to reveal the bank of a great black lake- hence, Rachel thought, why Marcus had called it the Black Lake. Across the lake, a simply enormous castle with many towers and turrets and windows that sparkled against the starry night sky stood at the top of a high mountain. Rachel felt a thrill run down her spine- here, just across the lake, was Hogwarts.

"Alright, everyone- no more'n four of yeh ter a boat!" Hagrid called, gesturing to a fleet of small wooden boats bobbing up and down in the water to their left by the Lake's shore. Feeling rather sick, Rachel climbed into a boat with Lisa and Terry, and they were joined by a blonde haired, blue eyed boy who introduced himself with a friendly grin as Anthony Goldstein.

"Everybody in?" Hagrid shouted- he had a boat to himself at the end of the fleet. "Alright then- _FORWARDS!"_

At his word, the fleet of little boats pushed away from the shore at the same time, all of them moving effortlessly across the Black Lake, which was pitch black and as smooth as slab of glass. Rachel clung onto the side of the boat with all her might. Despite the lessons she and Marcus had had as young children, she was an absolutely useless swimmer to the point of embarrassment and thus was very wary indeed of great bodies of water like lakes and swimming pools. The rest of the first years were silent, all of them staring spellbound at the enormous castle overhead, and, tearing her gaze from the water to the school, Rachel saw the castle towered over them more and more the closer the boats glided to the cliff it stood stood upon.

"Yer're gonna wan' ter put yer heads down here!" Hagrid yelled from the end of the fleet as the first of the little wooden boats reached the cliff; the first years followed his instructions, bending their head as the boats transported them through a thick curtain of ivy, which hid a wide opening in the face of the cliff. Rachel clung onto the side of the boat tighter than ever as the boats then carried the first years through a dark, damp tunnel, which appeared to be leading them directly beneath the castle. Then, the boats emerged into an underground harbour of sorts, and the first years raised their heads. Rachel sighed inwardly with relief as the boats came to a stop in neat lines on the bank of the harbour and she was quick to joined the other first years in clambering out of their boats onto the safety of pebbles and rocks.

"Oi, yeh, over there! This isn't yer toad, is it?" Hagrid- who was inspecting the boats for any belongings as the first years clambered out of them onto the bank- called to a boy; Rachel recognised him as the boy who had been looking for his toad on the train. He was standing Rachel saw with a jolt of surprise, beside a very familiar looking girl- a girl with thick, bushy brown hair, brown eyes and rather big front teeth. Nudging Terry, Rachel inched her head questioningly towards the girl; Terry followed her nod and blinked, his eyes widening in surprise. He nodded, and Rachel took that to mean her first thought was confirmed. It was the Muggle girl from her local library. Except, she clearly wasn't a Muggle at all. She opened her mouth to call out to the girl, but the boy who was missing his toad spoke before she could.

"Yes- Trevor; thank you!" he cried blissfully, taking the toad from Hagrid. Nodding, Hagrid lead the way through a passageway carved into the rock, lighting the way with his lamp; the first years clambering after him; small sighs of relief coming from some of them as, at last, they emerged from the passageway onto damp, yet smooth green grass directly in the castle's shadow.

The first years followed Hagrid up a flight of stone steps, and at the top, crowded around the enormous, heavy looking oak-fashioned front door.

"Everyone here?" Hagrid asked, looking around him at the first years. "Hey, yeh there, 'ave yeh still got yer toad alrigh'?"

At the boy's cheerful nod, Hagrid turned back to the castle door, raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the door's surface.

It swung open instantly. A stern-faced, tall, thin black-haired witch wearing emerald-green robes stood the the doorway. So stern was the expression on her face, in fact, that Rachel hoped she never got in trouble with her.

"Here're this year's firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said.

"Thank you very much, Hagrid," the witch- Professor McGonagall- replied seriously. "I'll look after them from here."

Taking hold of the handle, Professor McGonagall pulled the door open as wide as it would go. The Entrance Hall beyond the threshold was so large Rachel was certain her whole house would fit inside it. The Hall's stone walls were illuminated by beautifully flaming torches; the ceiling was so high above their heads it was impossible to see; a large archway stood a little way up the wall to the left of the front door, framing a narrow stone staircase leading down beneath ground level, to, Rachel presumed, the dungeons where Marcus had told her potions lessons were held; and a superb marble staircase faced the first years, clearly leading to the castle's upper floors.

The first years followed Professor McGonagall across the Hall's flagged stone floor. The animated drone of a few hundreds of voices echoed out to the first years from a doorway to their right- presumably, that was the Great Hall Marcus mentioned, Rachel thought- but Professor McGonagall lead the first years past the door and showed them into a rather small and empty chamber-like room off the Entrance Hall. The first years crowded inside it, all of them standing moderately closer together than they would have usually done, as they peered about them nervously.

"Welcome, everyone, to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said, as seriously as before. "The start-of-term feast will commence shortly, but before you sit down with the rest of the school in the Great Hall, all of you will be Sorted into a House. The Sorting Ceremony is very important, because, during your time at Hogwarts, your house will be something like your family. You will, you see, have lessons with the rest of your house; sleep in your house's dormitory; and spend the majority of your free time in your house's common room.

"There are four houses here at Hogwarts, called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin," Professor McGonagall went on. "Every house has its own honorable history, and all of them have brought out outstanding wizards and witches. During your time Hogwarts, your achievements will earn your house points; while any rule-breaking will lead to a loss of house points. At the conclusion of the school year, the house with the most house points is bestowed the house cup, which is a great honor. I hope that all of you will bring credit to whichever house you are Sorted into.

"The Sorting Ceremony is going to commence in a few moments, before the rest of the school." Professor McGonagall finished. "I advise that you all tidy yourselves up as best you can while you wait."

Her eyes lingered for a moment a few students, including the boy with the toad- whose cloak was pulled to one side- and tall redheaded boy with a long nose, freckles and a smudge of dirt on his nose. Rachel had the strangest feeling she had seen him before, and after a moment, she remembered seeing him standing with a redheaded woman and young redheaded girl- who could only be his mother and sister respectively- on Platform nine-and-three quarters when she had gone with her parents to see off and collect Marcus the previous school year. The boy beside the redhead- a short, scrawny bespectacled boy with almond shaped emerald green eyes and messy, jet black hair, tried rather nervously and pointlessly to flatten his hair to avoid Professor McGonagall's gaze. Remembering the lopsidedness of her headband, Rachel hastened to pull it from her head, flatten her own hair and slide the headband back into her head, this time with considerably more neatness and care.

"I shall come back when we're prepared for you," Professor McGonagall said. "Wait quietly, please."

Turning on her heel, she walked from the chamber, closing the door behind her.

"Well, so far it doesn't seem like we have to face a Sphinx." Terry said quietly to Lisa and Rachel.

"Yeah," Lisa laughed shakily, but she still looked scared and nervous- exactly, how Rachel herself felt. Looking around them, Rachel saw that everyone near them saw looked terrified as well.

Nobody was speaking much at all, except for the bushy haired girl from the Library, who was whispering rather loudly and quite quickly fast about the number of spells she had learned and speculating about which one she would need. Rachel stared at her shoes and tried not to listen, deciding to find out who, exactly, the girl was when she didn't feel quite so nervous.

Then, several people around her screamed. Rachel jumped in alarm, looked up and gasped, as did Lisa and several others around them.

Around twenty ghosts had just come through the wall at the back of the chamber. Gleaming white and slightly see through, the ghosts floated across the room in deep discussion, hardly so much as looking at the first years. It sounded rather as though they were arguing.

A ghost who looked very much like a squat, fat monk was in mid-argument: "I say, we'd do well to forgive and forget- he might as well have a second chance-"

"But have we not given Peeves more than enough chances than he perhaps deserves, my dear Friar?" A ghost dressed in a ruff and tights inquired. "He's so badly behaved; _and_ it's us who get the bad name- and then theirs the fact that, really and truly, he's not a ghost-" he broke off abruptly, catching sight of the first years. "I say, what are the lot of you doing in here?"

No-one replied.

"They must be new students!" the Fat Friar said, smiling kindly around at the first years. "I suppose you're all waiting to be Sorted?"

A couple of people nodded wordlessly.

"Well, I hope that I'll see you in Hufflepuff!" the Friar said, still smiling. "It was my house during my Hogwarts days, you know."

"Thank you Friar, now move along, please," a severe voice said. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin."

Professor McGonagall had re-entered the chamber. One after the other, the many ghosts drifted away through the wall opposite them.

"Now, please form a single line," Professor McGonagall ordered the group of first years, "and follow after me."

Feeling rather as though her insides had dissolved into nothing, Rachel lined up behind Terry and Lisa and together with the other first years they followed Professor McGonagall from the small chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Rachel had to stop herself from gaping as she looked around her. The Great Hall was illuminated by thousands upon thousands of candles that floated in midair beneath a silky black ceiling adorned with stars, and over four long wooden tables, around which the the rest of the school were sitting. Rachel stared for a moment at the ceiling, wondering how on earth it was like that., before returning her gaze to the rest of the Hall. The four wooden tables were set with gleaming golden plates, cutlery and empty goblets.

At the head of the Great Hall there was another long table, set in the same manner as the four others, where the professors were sitting. Professor McGonagall guided the first years up to this table, pausing so that the first years stopped in their line, facing the rest of the school, with the staff sitting behind them. The many faces of the rest of the school staring up at them appeared rather like pale lanterns in the candlelight that floated above their heads. Ghosts were seated around the four house tables amongst the students, shining a misty silver colour in the candlelight. Rachel caught sight of Marcus sitting beside Oliver at the end of the second table from the left amidst the rest of the school's Ravenclaws; he caught her eye and grinned, gesturing to the empty seats beside him, which were, Rachel assumed, for the first year Ravenclaws. Rachel smiled back, feeling slightly less nervous. Soon enough, she would be sitting beside Marcus, and the third step of her plan to become Minister for Magic would be complete.

Then Rachel heard someone in front of her whisper, "The ceiling has Charmed to copy the sky outside. I read so in _Hogwarts: A History_."

Rachel's eyebrows rose slightly in surprise- it was difficult to believe that there was even a ceiling at all- to Rachel, it looked as though the great Hall was merely open to the Heavens. Leaning sideways discreetly, Rachel saw that it was the Bushy haired girl from the Library who had spoken, to the black haired boy with green eyes. Rachel exchanged a glance with Terry; whoever this girl was, if she'd read _Hogwarts: A History-_ something which, aside from the chapter about Ravenclaw House, Rachel had never managed to do; preferring to read the memoirs of past Ministers for Magic instead- she clearly knew an awful lot about Hogwarts.

Rachel quickly ducked back into her place in line and faced the front as the other first years did, as, without a word, Professor McGonagall set a four-legged stool down on the stone floor before the first years. On the seat of the stood, she placed a pointed wizard's hat- a frayed, patched and extremely dirty wizard's hat. Rachel's eyebrows rose again- if _this_ was the Sorting Hat, she had certainly expected something a bit more… well, grand.

For a fair couple of seconds, the Great Hall was absolutely silent. Then, the aged hat gave a twitch. A gash close to the brim of the hat opened wide, as thought it was a mouth- and then the hat started to sing:

 _ **"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,**_

 _ **But don't judge on what you see,**_

 _ **I'll eat myself if you can find**_

 _ **A smarter hat than me.**_

 _ **You can keep your bowlers black,**_

 _ **Your top hats sleek and tall,**_

 _ **For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat**_

 _ **And I can cap them all.**_

 _ **There's nothing hidden in your head**_

 _ **The Sorting Hat can't see,**_

 _ **So try me on and I will tell you**_

 _ **Where you ought to be.**_

 _ **You might belong in Gryffindor,**_

 _ **Where dwell the brave at heart,**_

 _ **Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;**_

 _ **You might belong in Hufflepuff,**_

 _ **Where they are just and loyal,**_

 _ **Those patient Hufflepuffs are true**_

 _ **And unafraid of toil;**_

 _ **Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,**_

 _ **If you've a ready mind,**_

 _ **Where those of wit and learning,**_

 _ **Will always find their kind;**_

 _ **Or perhaps in Slytherin**_

 _ **You'll make your real friends,**_

 _ **Those cunning folk use any means**_

 _ **To achieve their ends.**_

 _ **So put me on! Don't be afraid!**_

 _ **And don't get in a flap!**_

 _ **You're in safe hands (though I have none)**_

 _ **For I'm a Thinking Cap!"**_

The entire hall burst out into applause as the Sorting Hat finished its song. The hat inched it's to forwards in a bow to each one of the four House tables in turn and then straightened up and became still once again.

"I knew we wouldn't have to fight a Sphinx!" Terry hissed over his shoulder to Lisa and Rachel. The girls nodded, smiling back, both of them slightly more relived than they cared to admit.

Professor McGonagall now moved forwards, a long roll of parchment in her hands.

"When I call out your name, you will come up here, put the Sorting Hat on and take a seat on this stool to be Sorted," she said, and then looked down at the scroll. _**"Abbott, Hannah!"**_

A girl with a slightly pink face and hair blonde hair in pigtails slightly stumbled out of the line, approached Professor McGonagall, put the Sorting Hat- which fell straight down over her head, covering her eyes- atop her head and sat down on the stool. For a moment, all was quiet in the Hall once again, but then-

 _ **"HUFFLEPUFF!"**_ The Sorting Hat shouted.

Those sitting around table second from the right, to the right of the Ravenclaw table should one be standing by the main door to the Great Hall, cheered and clapped; and, beaming, Hannah stood up, placed the hat back down on the stool and went to sit down amongst them. Rachel caught sight of the Fat Friar ghost waving cheerfully at Hannah as she shook hands with some of her new Housemates.

"Belby, Rachel!" Professor McGonagall called.

Rachel's heart skipped a beat- she hadn't thought there would only be one person with a surname starting with 'A' in her year- nor that there wouldn't be anyone with a surname starting with 'BA.' She stepped out of the line, trying to keep her legs from trembling as she felt the gaze of everyone in the hall fix upon her. Despite her nerves, Rachel felt a wave of excitement as she reached the stool. The moment was finally here. The completion of the third step of her plan was within her grasp. Picking up the Sorting Hat, Rachel sat down on the stool and put the Sorting Hat on her head. The last thing she saw before the Sorting Hall fell over her eyes as it had Hannah Abbott's was her brother, looking at her expectantly.

For a moment, darkness surrounded her. Her heart beating fast, Rachel waited for something to happen. She couldn't help but jump slightly as a small voice suddenly sounded in her ear.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here: a Belby." The voice said. "I know your family very well my dear- yes, there has only been one of you, I think, Sorted outside of Ravenclaw in several generations- and even then, she had quick wit and ready mind; but the remainder of her nature was such that I would be doing her- and myself- a great disservice by Sorting her anywhere other than Gryffindor... But it is you, my dear, that I must Sort now… now, let me see… Oh, yes- there's the wit- and the mind, yes, you Belbys really have something going on there, don't you, and there's a bit of talent, there, too, oh my you _are_ a good, consistent family in that regard… oh- but what's this? Oho!"

Rachel's fingers curled around the side of the stool. _'What's what?'_ she thought, but the Sorting Hat ignored her question completely as it went on:

"Oho indeed! You have a real thirst here, my dear, don't you- a real thirst to prove yourself- oh, you're _very_ ambitious, aren't you, my dear, very much so- and you've certainly got the right mind for it. Well, Miss Belby there's really only one place I can put you- yes, once again I'd be doing myself, and you, a great disservice by putting you anywhere else; please, remember that, Miss Belby, as well as the fact that I am always completely certain before I announce my decision- which, for you, is absolutely-

" _SLYTHERIN!"_

 **A/N: Please review! :)**


	6. Chapter 6: The Great Hall

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else that may be referenced in this chapter. The _bold, italic, underline text_ are direct quotes from the _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_ book. **

**A/N: Massive thank you to you all. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)**

 **Twitter: Prof_McGonagal**

 **Chapter 6: The Great Hall**

Rachel froze, her blood running cold in her veins as horror washed over her. All at once she felt she couldn't move- her arms and legs wouldn't work-

Cheers and applause filled her ears, and the sound of it made Rachel's heart lurch painfully in her chest and her stomach flip nauseatingly- it was coming, she could hear, from the far right hand side of the Great Hall. The Slytherin table. Spots appeared before Rachel's eyes as the thought, and suddenly she felt lightheaded and dizzy- no, Rachel widened her eyes desperately, trying to fight the feeling off- she wouldn't faint, not in front of the entire school-

With an enormous effort, Rachel forced the spots from her sight, and her arms and legs to work again. A strange, numb feeling washed over her, swirling uneasily with the horror freezing her blood as she stood up from the stool and removed the Sorting Hat from her head. Numbly horrified, with her blood cold in her veins, Rachel felt as though she was trapped inside a nightmare she was unable to wake up from as she set the Sorting Hat down onto the stool, and her legs carried her down from the front of the Hall, over to the applauding table. As she passed the head of the Ravenclaw table, Rachel caught sight of Marcus. He was staring at her as though she had just slapped him in the face- such was the combination of shock and surprise etched into every line of his face that under other circumstances he would have looked rather comical. Oliver was leaning forwards in his seat beside Marcus, his mouth hanging open, looking very surprised indeed. Under different circumstances he, too, would have looked quite comical.

Rachel looked away from them, clutching at her sleeves as another dizzying wave of spots appeared before her eyes; but by now she had reached the Slytherin table, and she sank, weakly, into the nearest empty seat, which was one that faced the rest of the Hall. She felt so very peculiar, numb and distant that it was several moments before she realised she was sitting a few seats down from a ghost- a rather awful looking ghost, with a haggard face, blank eyes that stared off into the distance, wearing robes that were stained with something that looked very much like silvery blood- and that someone was leaning across the table a seat along from hers, waving, trying to get her attention.

"Sorry?" Rachel heard herself ask as though from a very long way away. The person waving at her was a girl a fair few years older than Rachel, with rather startlingly beautiful blue eyes flecked with grey, pale skin and long, brown hair. A shiny dark green badge with a silver snake on it, over which a large silver 'P' was superimposed, was pinned to the front of her robes, just above her Slytherin House badge. Rachel adverted her gaze from the girl's House badge to her face, taking a deep inward breath in an effort to contain her emotions. She would not get upset, not here, not now.

"I just wanted to ask if you were alright." The girl said, looking at her in concern. "You went awfully pale up there; for a moment I thought you were going to pass out. I'm Gemma Farley, by the way, fifth year prefect- I'll be showing you and your fellow firsties to the common room after dinner." She held out her hand.

"Nice to meet you," Rachel heard herself reply; her hand, too, reached out and shook Gemma Farley's as the Hufflepuff table cheered and applauded once again, and up before the staff table, a girl with strawberry-blonde hair in a long plait left the stool, hurried across the hall and collapsed into the seat beside Hannah Abbott. "Rachel Belby- and yes, I'm fine, thank you." She hoped it sounded more convincing that she felt; it didn't sound like it from afar.

 _ **"Boot, Terry!"**_ Professor McGonagall's voice called. Rachel jumped at the name and turned in her seat to watch. As Terry stepped out of line and approached the stood, Rachel watched, her gaze passing behind Terry on occasion, for vaguely, she saw she could see the staff table clearly from where she sat. A rather unpleasant looking, hooked nose, sallow skinned man with greasy black hair sat directly before the Slytherin table, beside a very nervous looking man in a large purple turban; a great gold chair sat in at the centre of the table, and in it sat a man Rachel dimly registered, from both her brother and a fair few Chocolate Frog cards, to be Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster; an old wizard with long silver hair, moustache and beard and a long crooked nose, upon which were perched a pair of half moon spectacles. Hagrid, Rachel saw, her gaze sliding past Terry as he sat down on the stool and put the Sorting Hat on his head, was sitting at the opposite end of the staff table, looking considerably more kindly at face value in the brightly lit Hall.

A moment later, the Hat opened its mouth.

" _ **RAVENCLAW!"**_

Those sitting at the Ravenclaw table cheered and clapped, Oliver the loudest of all. Trying to fight her numbness and begin to process the night's events, Rachel clapped too, but stopped when she saw Gemma Farley looking at her strangely, not wanting to offend any Slytherins. Grinning broadly, Terry pulled the Sorting Hat from his head and got to his feet, dropped the hat back onto the stool and hurried over to the Ravenclaw table. Rachel tried to catch his eye to congratulate him, but he walked straight over to the Ravenclaw table and, shaking hands with several Ravenclaws, including Oliver and Marcus, who stood up to greet him, Terry sat down opposite Oliver, with his back to the Slytherin table. Rachel saw him shoot Lisa a triumphant grin. Lisa grinned back, then glanced, as though in spite of herself, towards Rachel- looking away quickly when she saw the girl was looking at her. Her plans to process the night's events shattering to pieces as hurt and confusion surged through Rachel; adding to her numbness and she looked away, back to the Sorting Hat, which was now Sorting a girl called Millicent Bulstrode.

" _SLYTHERIN!"_

The Slytherin table burst out into cheers and applause as they had done for Rachel. Rachel clapped along with them numbly, her numbness coming into greater prominence and heightening as Millicent Bulstrode took the seat to her left. She was a tall, athletic-looking girl with a strong jaw, long, curly black hair and clear, china blue eyes. She looked vaguely familiar, but Rachel could not remember where she'd seen her before.

"Hello," the girl said with a smile, holding out her hand. "Millicent Bulstrode. Nice to meet you."

"Hello," Rachel heard herself reply, her cheeks rising, forcing her mouth into a smile. "Rachel Belby- it's nice to meet you too."

A crease appeared between Millicent Bulstrode's eyebrows. "Aren't your family usually in Ravenclaw?" she asked.

Rachel's throat tightened. Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded as politely as she could and turned her attention back to the front of the Hall, nauseated anew, willing her eyes to stop prickling as they did.

The Sorting went on. The Sorting Hat took spilt seconds to Sort some people, and some time to Sort others. Soon enough, however, Rachel and Millicent Bulstrode were joined by Vincent Crabbe- a large, thickset boy with a pudding bowl-style haircut, thick neck, gorilla-like arms, and a rather flat nose who was rather mean and stupid-looking, but nonetheless he nodded courteously enough to Millicent and Rachel when he sat a seat up from the one opposite Rachel, beside Gemma Farley; and Tracey Davis, a small girl with long, straight black hair, a blunt fringe and grey eyes, who sat a seat away from Crabbe's left and seemed nice enough, though Rachel noticed that for some reason, the girl kept shooting excited looks at her across the table. Anthony Goldstein, the boy who had shared a boat with Rachel, Lisa and Terry on their way up to the castle, was Sorted into Ravenclaw; then Gregory Goyle- a broad shouldered boy with brown, bristly hair that was low on his forehead, small, rather dull dark eyes and long, gorilla-like arms, similar to Vincent Crabbe's- was Sorted into Slytherin. Also like Vincent Crabbe, he was rather mean and stupid looking, but he, too, nodded courteously enough to Millicent, Rachel and Tracey as he sat down in the empty seat between Vincent Crabbe and Tracey Davis, opposite Rachel. The bushy haired girl from the Library was called, Rachel dimly registered a few moments later, Hermione Granger, and she ran forwards when her name was called after Gregory Goyle's and rammed the Sorting Hat early on her head. A moment passed, then she was Sorted into Gryffindor. Then, "Greengrass, Daphne", who turned out to be the rather haughty looking tall girl, with platinum blonde hair and dark green eyes who hand stood in front of Rachel and Lisa in the line for the girls' bathroom on the train was Sorted into Slytherin, her haughty demeanour melting away as she sat down beside Tracey and returned the girl's grin- clearly they were already friends.

The blonde boy who had lost, and then recovered, his pet toad, "Longbottom, Neville," tripped and fell over on his way to be Sorted, and was so relieved upon being Sorted into Gryffindor after almost five minutes of waiting, that he hurried over to the table without removing the Sorting Hat, and had to take it back, amidst howls of laughter, and give it to Morag MacDougal, who was Sorted into Hufflepuff.

"Malfoy, Draco!" Professor McGonagall called.

A slender boy with sleek white-blond hair, cold grey eyes, a pale complexion and rather sharp, pointed features and an arrogant expression swaggered out of the line and over to the stool. But the Sorting Hat had barely touched his head before it made its decision.

" _SLYTHERIN!"_

Looking as though he had expected nothing less, Draco Malfoy stood up, put the Sorting Hat back on the stool and once again swaggered over to the Slytherin table to cheers and applause. He sat down in the empty seat to Rachel's right, opposite Vincent Crabbe, and, having nodded courteously to everyone around him in turn, turned attention to the Sorting as 'Moon, Leanne,' was Sorted into Hufflepuff, and 'Nott, Theodore', was called.

" _SLYTHERIN!"_ The Hat called after another split-second. Grinning as the Slytherin table clapped and cheered, Theodore Nott got to his feet, returned the Sorting Hat to its stool and crossed to the Slytherin table, sitting down a seat away from Millicent; nodding courteously to everyone around him as Draco Malfoy had done, but with a smile.

"Fancy seeing you here, Nott." Draco Malfoy drawled with a smirk, looking down the table.

Theodore Nott smirked back easily, looking back at him, clearly rather amused. "I could say the same to you, Malfoy."

"Parkinson, Pansy!" Professor McGonagall called.

 _Parkinson?_ Rachel's curiosity pulled her slightly from her numbness and nausea as she looked up at the sound of the name. Parkinson, she knew, was the surname of Britain's third Minister for Magic Perseus Parkinson, who had held office from 1726 to 1733. He had, Rachel remembered, attempted to pass a bill making it illegal for a wizard to marry a Muggle; not realising that the public was in fact tired of their once anti-Muggle sentiment and now wanted peace. Thus, Perseus Parkinson's attempt to outlaw Wizard-Muggle marriage ultimately lead to him losing the next election to one Eldritch Diggory. Rachel wondered dimly if there was any relation between Perseus Parkinson and Pansy Parkinson as the girl- who was round faced with mid-length dark brown hair and dark green eyes- sat down on the stool and put on the Sorting Hat. She rather thought there might be, Parkinson was not a very common name.

" _SLYTHERIN!"_

Beside Rachel, Millicent Bulstrode exhaled with relief, joining in the cheering and clapping of the Slytherins around her joyfully as Pansy Parkinson took off the Sorting Hat and hurried over to the table, throwing herself into the empty seat between Millicent and Theodore Nott, and squeezing Millicent's arm with a grin; clearly, they too, were friends.

The Sorting Hat Sorted 'Patil, Padma,' into Ravenclaw, and then an identical girl, 'Patil, Parvati' into Gryffindor- Padma Patil looked a little upset at this, but returned her sister's comforting smile as Parvati sat down beside a girl with dirty-blonde hair whose Sorting Rachel didn't remember.

"I thought those two would be separated," Rachel heard Pansy Parkinson whisper to Millicent. "Padma's always been the more studious out the two of them- and Parvati's definitely the more confident- catty, too; even more than so than I am, really."

Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel saw Millicent nod in agreement. A strawberry-blonde haired girl called Sally-Anne Perks was then Sorted into Gryffindor, too, and Professor McGonagall glanced down at her roll of parchment again.

 **" _Potter, Harry!"_** she called.

Rachel started at the sound of the name. Pulled from her mind once again, Rachel craned her to see who Harry Potter was. Her eyes widened as the a short, scrawny bespectacled boy with almond shaped emerald green eyes and messy, jet black hair who had stood beside the tall redheaded boy with dirt on his nose in the chamber off the Great Hall stepped out of line and headed towards the Sorting Hat, the Great Hall erupted into whispers.

"Did she say Harry Potter?"

"Potter- as in _the_ Potter?"

"He stopped the Dark Lord!"

"I don't know why everyone's so fussed," Rachel heard Draco Malfoy say softly to Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, opposite him. "He's an idiot."

Several moments passed in silence as Harry Potter sat down on the stool and put the Sorting Hat on his head. He sat perfectly still, his only movement being his fingers curling around the side of the stool- then, the Sorting Hat opened its mouth-

 _ **"GRYFFINDOR!"**_ it shouted.

Across the Hall, the Gryffindor table positively erupted. The entire House cheered and applauded louder than any table had for anyone else as Harry Potter, stood up, took off the Sorting Hat and walked shakily over to the Gryffindor table, shaking hands with a redheaded boy with a red and gold badge the same shape as Gemma Farley's prefect badge pinned to his robes when he reached it. The Weasley twins Rachel had seen on the train began a loud and boisterous chant- _**"We got Potter! We got Potter! We got Potter!"**_

Harry Potter sat down at the Gryffindor table, facing the rest of the school, looking around him as though immensely relieved. Rachel's eyebrows rose further- Harry Potter certainly didn't seem as self-assured as she thought he would be; given that he had defeated the most powerful Dark Wizard in the world as a baby.

Only three people were left to be Sorted now: Lisa; the tall redheaded boy with a long nose, freckles and a smudge of dirt on his nose; and a tall, dark-skinned boy with close cropped curly looking black hair, high cheekbones and slanting brown eyes. He looked rather familiar… Rachel frowned, trying to place him…

The answer hit her suddenly- he was the rude boy from Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley, Rachel realised. Marcus had said the boy's older sister was in his year, in Slytherin- Irma Zabini, he'd said her name was. Rachel turned and looked down the Slytherin table, catching sight of Irma Zabini sitting halfway down the opposite side of the table, surrounded by a crowd of students around her own age, and judging by the confident, rather superior looking way she sat, Rachel assumed that Irma Zabini was a leader amongst the Slytherin second years. Turning her attention back to the front of the Hall, Rachel saw that both Lisa and the redheaded boy looked slightly green. Irma Zabini's brother, however, looked completely unruffled; bored, even.

"Turpin, Lisa!" Professor McGonagall called.

Rachel turned her attention to her friend as, looking absolutely petrified, Lisa stepped out of line, walked up to the stool sat down and put the Sorting Hat on her head.

Several moments passed in silence… Rachel held her breath-

" _RAVENCLAW!"_

The Ravenclaw table burst out into cheers and applause; Rachel clapped, too- but discreetly once again in case Gemma Farley was looking or she offended anyone in Slytherin as Lisa took off the Sorting Hat and walked over to the Ravenclaw table. As she had done with Terry, Rachel tried to catch Lisa's eye to congratulate her, but Lisa, like Terry, walked straight over to the Ravenclaw table, looking rather as though she was avoiding Rachel's eye as she and sat down opposite Marcus and Oliver beside Terry, with her back to the Slytherin table. Marcus, too, Rachel noticed, avoided her eye when she tried to catch his. Hurt and confused anew, Rachel dropped her gaze to the cutlery in front of her as the redheaded boy- 'Weasley, Ronald'- walked up to the Sorting stool, sat down with the hat on his head, and was Sorted into Gryffindor.

She hadn't been Sorted into Ravenclaw, Rachel knew, and that wasn't good, so was she now excommunicated? Were her family and friends ever going to speak to her- or even look at her- again? She was still the same person she had always been- wasn't she? Hurt, confused anew and suddenly sick to her stomach like never before, Rachel didn't notice that the last student- Irma Zabini's brother- had been Sorted until her mind registered that cheers and applause surrounded her, and she, too, applauded politely as she saw that he was walking towards the Slytherin table. Though he did not swagger as Draco Malfoy did, there was a certain arrogance to his stride and he looked as dispassionate and bored as before.

"Hello, mate." Theodore Nott said, holding out his hand to Irma Zabini's brother as he reached the Slytherin table, and sat down opposite him in the last remaining seat.

"Theo." He replied, clasping the other boy's hand, though his expression did not change.

"You can smile, you know, Blaise." Theodore said with a grin. "It won't kill you."

The boy- Blaise Zabini- merely rolled his eyes in response.

At the front of the Hall Professor McGonagall, had rolled up the scroll of parchment bearing the list of First Year names, picked up the Sorting Hat on its stool and was currently carrying all of it from the Great Hall. As she vanished through the door she had led the first years through upon their first entering the Hall, the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore stood up from his seat at the staff table.

He beamed around at the tables of students, with his arms open wide, as though seeing them all sitting before him delighted him more than anything else.

"Welcome, everyone," he said. "Welcome; welcome back to another, brand new year here at Hogwarts! Before we commence our feast, I would very much like to say to you a few words. And those words are as follows: _**Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"**_

With that, he sat down again. The students cheered and clapped, and all at once, the gold plates running down the middle of the four tables were piled high with food. There were pork and lamb chops, chips, roast chicken and roast beef, bacon, sausages, boiled and roast potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, carrots, peas, ketchup, gravy, and, rather bizarrely, peppermint humbugs. It all looked delicious, but still hurt, confused and nauseated, Rachel found she didn't have much of an appetite. Nevertheless, she told herself to make an effort to have something to eat and, rather robotically, joined the rest of the Hall in putting food on their respective plates.

"Is Professor Dumbledore alright in the head, do you think?" Pansy Parkinson asked, sounding concerned as she spooned peas onto her plate.

"Oh yes, perfectly." A hoarse whisper replied; starting along with Millicent, Pansy, and Draco Malfoy, Rachel turned to see the rather awful looking bloodstained ghost had floated down the table and taken the vacant seat beside Draco Malfoy- who looked none too pleased.

"You're the Bloody Baron, aren't you?" Pansy asked the ghost. "My cousin told me about you."

The Bloody Baron looked an odd mix of gratified and offended. "Did your cousin also tell you that I prefer to be referred to as Baron Grosvenor Muddiman- _my name_?"

"No- I'm afraid I didn't." A tall, thin, pale boy with thick, wavy dark hair, the same green eyes as Pansy and a rather pointed nose suddenly spoke from a few seats down on the other side of the table. He had a serious sounding voice, something that contrasted rather confusingly with his amused expression. "Sorry, Baron- it must have slipped my mind. Congratulations on your Sorting, Pansy- and you Millicent." He smiled at them both, looking in their direction. His gaze scarcely seemed to stay on anyone for the length of time required for him to finish speaking to them- his eyes moved about in a way that made Rachel think that he was intent upon gathering as much information about his surroundings as possible.

"Thanks, Sebastian," Millicent smiled. Sebastian returned his gaze to Millicent and smiled back, his gaze then remaining on her for a moment longer than before, before passing to the rest of the Slytherin first years. He looked for a moment at Blaise Zabini, but when the younger boy raised an eyebrow none-too-welcomingly, Sebastian's gaze flickered to Rachel.

"Rachel Belby, isn't it?" he asked, and Rachel felt her head nod. "Sebastian Parkinson- Pansy's cousin," he said, holding out his hand with a smile; still lost in her emotions, Rachel slowly registered her hand shaking his and she was smiling politely back automatically. Dimly, Rachel then rather wanted to ask if there really was any relation between him, Pansy, and Perseus Parkinson, but she still felt so numb that she didn't think she would be able to phrase the question properly, and given that the latter had lived centuries ago, it would be a strange thing to do. "Are you related to Marcus Belby, by any chance?" Sebastian asked. "You look a bit similar, if you don't mind my saying so, and Belby is not a common name."

"I don't mind- and yes, I am." Rachel heard her voice inside her head- it was suddenly bright and chirpy- how she didn't know, for throat had constricted horribly at the mention of her brother. "He's my brother."

"I thought so." Sebastian Parkinson nodded. "Er… Your father- he's quite important in the Ministry, isn't he?"

"Yes, I think so," Rachel heard herself reply, feeling a faint twinge of puzzlement, having not expected the question. "He's one of the senior officials of the British seats of the International Confederation of Wizards. Why do you ask?"

"A transcript of a speech of his- about the importance of Correlation in Multinational Research into the Understanding and Manipulation of Advanced Magic- was in _Transfiguration Today_ in July," Sebastian Parkinson explained. "I thought it was really good; clever and well written, you know- even put it away so I can re-read it later on. I'm going to be Head of the Department of Mysteries after I graduate Hogwarts, see." He spoke as though it were already arranged; as though it would be ridiculous to suggest that his career would follow any other path. Rachel rather wanted to know how he had become set upon getting the job, but an idea about the kind of speech her father would make when he found out she wasn't in Ravenclaw hit her suddenly, and sickened anew she merely nodded in response to Sebastian and returned her gaze to her plate. The roast beef and potatoes she barely remembered putting on there suddenly did not appeal to her at all, and pushing her plate away, Rachel missed the first year's conversation dropping her gaze to her lap; fighting back tears as thoughts of her parents' reaction to her Sorting flooded her mind and her insides twisted sickeningly anew.

"If you're going to be sick, please don't do it over the apple pie."

Rachel looked up. The students' plates had been wiped clean; and the food had been replaced by desserts- great big blocks of thick ice cream in what looked to be every single flavour possible; trifle; strawberries; tracle tarts; jam doughnuts; chocolate eclairs; rice pudding; jelly; apple pies- but Rachel was not concerned about pudding presently- nor, it seemed, were her fellow first years. Though they had all nearly finished their desserts, the food sat temporarily forgotten as they were all looking between her and Blaise Zabini. It had been he who had spoken; he was leaning across the table towards her, looking at her coolly, malicious edge to his tone.

Suddenly, Rachel felt something to snap inside her mind and a flood of anger replaced her upset and nausea. She had been Sorted outside of Ravenclaw; was now likely going to be excommunicated from her family like Dorothy Belby had been; and her two best friends were blanking her; she didn't need this boy she didn't even know being nasty to her out of nowhere- or at all- as well.

"Do you make a habit of being rude to complete strangers?" she demanded, glaring at him.

"Generally, no," Zabini replied coolly, glaring back at her. "But I don't take kindly to _eavesdroppers_." Clearly, he remembered their encounter in Flourish and Blotts, too.

"I wasn't eavesdropping!" Rachel snapped. "You were standing right in front of the last book I needed, I told you so- and in any case, I couldn't understand what you were saying!"

"Didn't stop you from lingering though, did it?" Zabini sneered, his eyes narrowing further.

"Well, excuseme for not having anywhere else to go or access to an alternate dimension." Rachel retorted sarcastically, glaring back at him all the more fiercely. Zabini opened his mouth to respond, but before he could do so, what remained of dessert vanished and Albus Dumbledore stood up once again. The Great Hall fell silent as the students and staff turned their attention to him. Pleased to have gotten the last word, Rachel smirked triumphantly to herself as she and the other first years did the same.

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat before speaking. "I have just a few short beginning-of-term notices to give you now that we have all had something to eat and drink." He said. "First years should remember that all students are forbidden to enter the stretch of forest in the grounds- and a couple of our returning pupils would do well to keep this rule in mind, too." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as his gaze flickered in the direction of the Gryffindor table, to the Weasley twins, before he continued.

"Additionally, the caretaker, Mr. Filch, has also asked me to bring to your attention the fact that no magic should be used in between lessons in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials are to be held during the second week of the term. Anybody wishes to play for their House team should inform Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must inform you that for the duration of the school year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is strictly forbidden to those who have no desire to die an incredibly agonizing death." Dumbledore finished.

A few people laughed, but most, Millicent Bulstrode amongst them, looked rather concerned.

"He's joking, right?" Millicent asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I don't think so," Gemma Farley spoke from her seat. "It's strange- Dumbledore normally gives us a detailed reason in the event that a place is out of bounds- the forest in the grounds is packed out with dangerous creatures; everybody knows, that's why we call it the 'Forbidden Forest.' I reckon he ought to have given the prefects and Heads more notice- the better to enforce the rule if we have too."

"And before we all retire to our beds, let us now sing the school song!" Dumbledore cried. The smiles of the rest of the staff turned very fixed at this; the hook-nosed man with greasy hair hadn't been smiling at all, but his expression soured at Dumbledore's words.

Dumbledore flicked his wand, as though trying to bat away a fly; long gold coloured ribbon flew out of it and rose high up in the air before the tables and, in one smooth motion looped itself, in a snakelike fashion, into words.

"Everybody choose your favorite tune," Dumbledore said, "and away we go!"

Automatically, Rachel opened her mouth to sing, but caught sight of Lisa glancing at her and looking away sharply when she saw Rachel was looking, and Rachel found that once again her voice would not work properly and closed her mouth again. At Dumbledore's words, however, the rest of school roared:

 _ **"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,**_

 _ **Teach us something please,**_

 _ **Whether we be old and bald**_

 _ **Or young with scabby knees,**_

 _ **Our heads could do with filling**_

 _ **With some interesting stuff,**_

 _ **For now they're bare and full of air,**_

 _ **Dead flies and bits of fluff,**_

 _ **So teach us things worth knowing,**_

 _ **Bring back what we've forgot,**_

 _ **Just do your best, we'll do the rest,**_

 _ **And learn until our brains all rot."**_

Everyone stopped singing at their own pace. The Weasley twins from Gryffindor were still singing long after the rest of the school, as they had chosen to sing to a particularly slow-paced funeral march.

Professor Dumbledore waved his wand through the air, conducting their last few lines, and once the twins had finished singing, he was amongst those who applauded the loudest.

"Ah, wonderful music," he said, wiping tears from his eyes joyfully. "It is truly a magic far beyond anything we learn here! And now, it is bedtime. Off you all trot!"

Gemma Farley got to her feet as the rest of the Hall stood up, too, at Dumbledore's words. "I'm supposed to show you where the common room and your dormitories are." She sat to the first years. "We'd better get a move on."

"Leaving without me, Gem?" an Asian boy with thick, shoulder length wavy black hair approached Gemma and the first years from further up the table, pinning a Prefect badge identical to Gemma's to the front of his robes as he approached Gemma and the First Years.

"I was about to, yes, _Alexander,"_ Gemma replied, a rather cool note to her voice.

"Never fear, Gem-Gem; I'm here now," he said, grinning. "Alex Murton, firsties," he added to the first years. I'm the other fifth year prefect."

"Glad to see you finally remembered- didn't show up for the meeting, did you?" Gemma muttered; Alex ignored her.

"Follow me, then, you lot." He said to the first years, starting up the aisle between the Slytherin and Ravenclaw Tables towards the main doors to the Great Hall. As she followed on behind Draco Malfoy, in a last, desperate attempt to regain some sense of normality, Rachel looked around for Marcus.

She caught sight of him standing beside Oliver, before the seats the two boys had sat in during dinner. As her gaze landed on them, their heads turned away from her, as though they had been looking at her but didn't want her to see.

A lump rose in her throat. Turning her head away, Rachel bit her lip hard, willing herself with all her might not to burst into tears as she and the other first year Slytherins followed Alex and Gemma- who was muttering darkly under her breath.

"Complimenti caro fratello miniera." A voice spoke as the first years reached the middle of the Slytherin table. It was Irma Zabini who had spoken; looking at her brother. "È possibile utilizzare Belladonna di scrivere alla vecchia strega di domani. Se vede Bella lei potrebbe effettivamente leggerlo." There was a faint note of bitterness to Irma's tone now.

"Sì- grazie sorella." Zabini replied emotionlessly. Rachel kept walking, not in the mood for making eye contact with Zabini and inevitably starting another argument.

"Non vorrei abituarmi ad esso." Irma's reply echoed up to her; Rachel could hear the smile in her tone. Zabini said nothing.

Rachel dropped her gaze to her shoes as she and the other Slytherins reached the doors to the Entrance Hall, not wanting to catch sight of or make eye contact with her brother, or anyone else for that matter. Only once the Slytherins were halfway across the Entrance Hall and facing away from the staircase that lead to the castle's upper floors- she knew from her family that the Ravenclaw common room and dormitories were situated in a tower on the west side of the castle, the entrance of which was on a door with a bronze knocker on in the shape of an Eagle the fifth floor- did Rachel look up. The two prefects, she saw, were leading the first years towards the archway that framed the narrow stone staircase she thought led down to the dungeons.

Her stomach lurched sickeningly, tears and spots springing to her eyes anew as the reality she had found herself in started to sink in completely.

 _She was not in Ravenclaw._

Her head spun worrying; spots obscured her vision; her ears rang-

' _No-'_ Rachel thought desperately, forcing herself to keep walking with the other first years. _'No- please-'_

She would not faint and cause a scene, not in front of everyone-

With another enormous effort, determined not to embarrass herself, Rachel took a deep, steadying inward breath and forced her vision to clear and the ringing to stop. Stilling her resolve, she steadied her walk and stared straight ahead of her unseeingly. She would hold her nerve, at least until she was alone and could think and react without fear of embarrassing herself.

 **A/N: Please review! :)**


	7. Chapter 7: The First Night

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else that may be referenced in this chapter.**

 **A/N: Enormous thank you to you all. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)**

 **Twitter: Prof_McGonagal**

 **Chapter 7: The First Night**

"Try and remember the way, if you can, firsties." Alex called over his shoulder as he led the way down the stone staircase to the dungeons and Gemma moved to the back of the group. "It's very easy to get lost down here."

It was rather colder at the bottom of the staircase than it had been in the Great and Entrance Halls, and it did not get any warmer as the first years followed Alex down the passage that lead up to the staircase.

"Professor Snape's office is just through this door here, just so you know." Alex said, pointing to a closed door halfway down the passageway. "He's our Head of House- he was in the one in black sitting in front of our table at dinner. Greasy hair- looks a bit like a bat."

"He's my Godfather, you know." Draco Malfoy said warningly. At the same time Gemma giggled, breaking off and flushing bright red when the first years and Alex turned to stare at her. "Keep moving," she said, waving them forwards. Alex turned back around, a grin tugging at his lips.

"Well, if he's your godfather, you know exactly what I'm talking about." Alex said over his shoulder to Malfoy as the Slytherins reached the end of the passageway. There were only two directions they could go in- right or left.

"If you turn right here, you'll be going in the direction of the Potions dungeons, where, as the name suggests, you'll have Potions lessons; they're taught by Professor Snape." Gemma called authoritatively from the back of the group; clearly, she was trying to put her laughter behind her. "To get to the common room you have to turn left."

"Right you are, Gem-Gem," Alex smirked over his shoulder as Gemma scowled at him. Then he led the first years in turning left, and they entered the first of what turned out to be a complex a labyrinth of passageways, which took them further and further under the school…

A few minutes later they were definitely in the dungeons, so cold and dimly lit by torches in brackets that there was no doubt about it. Rachel shivered slightly, pulling her robes closer around her the deeper they walked. This was not how she had imagined the walk to her common room would be.

Left, then right, then left, then straight, then left again, the Slytherins walked further and further down until finally, Alex stooped before a slightly damp, very bare stretch of stone wall.

"Concealed within this wall is a door that is the entrance to our common room." He said, turning to face the first years; Gemma moved from the back of the group and fell into step beside him. "In order to access this door, you have to know the password. The password is changed every fortnight and new passwords are posted on the noticeboard in the common room, so make sure you keep an eye out for them. Now," he cleared his throat, and suddenly his expression and tone of voice were very serious indeed. Gemma, too, looked grave. "On absolutely no account is any Slytherin to bring any student from any of the other houses into the Slytherin common room, or to reveal the password to anyone outside of Slytherin, whether accidently or otherwise." Alex said. "Rest assured that if either of these things occur the culprit will be found out and punished accordingly. Clear?"

The first years nodded.

"Good." Alex and Gemma nodded curtly.

"That everything, Gemma?" Alex asked his fellow prefect.

"Just about," she nodded. "We can leave the leave the rest for when we're inside."

"Good idea." Alex smiled at her, slightly sheepishly. "Er… what's the new password?"

Gemma shook her head exasperatedly. "Fen." She said. At once, a large rectangular section of the stone wall slid noiselessly open, and the two Prefects led the first years into the room beyond.

The Slytherin common room was a lengthy, low-ceilinged, underground room with jagged stone walls and a similar ceiling. Large, round, greenish lamps hung from chains from the ceiling. The room itself was filled with a number of wooden tables and chairs, and two chess tables bookended by carved, black and dark green armchairs with button-tufted cushions stood opposite ends of the room- one to the right of the entrance to the common room and the other further up the room, beyond the elaborately carved mantelpiece that was positioned hallway up the wall to the right of the entrance wall. A large portrait of a serpent hung above the mantelpiece, a shiny black clock stood atop it and a roaring fire was crackling merely away beneath it. The fireplace was faced by a black and dark green button-tufted, low backed leather sofa; a second sofa of an identical appearance stood to fire's right and two armchairs like those bookending the chess tables stood to its left; all of the seats filled with older Slytherins talking quietly, their feet and school ends covering the various dark wooden cabinet style end tables that surrounded them. Two large wooden bookshelves filled with tomes with a number of tomes stood near the fireplace on its either side, both of them faced by four and six armchairs of an identical appearance to the others in the room respectively- the bookshelf nearest to the entrance was faced by the former number of chairs, while the one furthest was faced by the latter number. Tapestries depicting the exploits of Slytherins from medieval times hung on the walls, two of them framing a simply enormous framed portrait that hung on the wall directly opposite the fireplace. The portrait was of the famed wizard Merlin, who was apparently asleep under a black satin eye mask; there was an identical portrait- minus the eye mask- hanging in the reception before the Minister for Magic's office at the Ministry, Rachel remembered. Returning her attention to the common room around her, Rachel saw a dark wooden and currently empty noticeboard stood a little way down from the Merlin's left. At the other end of the common room, two heavy wooden doors were surrounded by large, floor-to-ceiling windows that provided the Slytherins with a rather spooky view of the depths of the Black Lake, and cast a rather spooky green glow into the common room as a whole, something that did little to appease the grand, yet rather cold atmosphere of the room; though the sound of lake water sloshing against the windows would have had a rather relaxing quality, had Rachel mind not immediately wondered if the glass had ever broken. Rachel looked around her, biting the inside of her lip slightly. This, too, was far cry from what she had been told of the airy, arched windows room that was the Ravenclaw common room.

Nevertheless, she had no choice but to join the rest of the first years in following Gemma and Alex through the common room, winding their way through the tables and chairs that filled it, until they reached the space of floor before the two doors at the other side of the room.

"Welcome, first years, to the Slytherin common room." Alex said with smile, as he and Gemma turned to face the first years. "As you no doubt saw, the noticeboard of all general knowledge is just over there," he gestured towards it.

"Yes," Gemma raised her eyebrows, looking rather amused despite herself. "Now- your dormitories: boys' dormitories are through the door to your right," she gestured to it, "and girls' to the left. You're looking for the door labelled 'First Years', obviously. You might find you'll have to climb rather further underground than we are already, but rest assured the dormitories are heated and well aired. Breakfast is served in the Great Hall from seven o'clock everyday to half-past nine every week day and half-past ten on weekends. Any questions?"

In spite of herself, Rachel raised her hand. "Has the glass down here ever broken?" she asked rather nervously, gesturing to the large, water-filled windows.

The first years all turned to stare at her; Zabini snickering nastily. Rachel flushed slightly at their stares, but glared back at Zabini defensively. Gemma Farley, for her part, looked as though she was stopping herself from laughing; Alex, however, looked understanding.

"I asked the same thing on my first night," he said. "And no, it hasn't- not ever; not here in the common room, or any of the dormitories, or anywhere in the dungeons. The Bloody Baron- the House ghost- confirmed it for me." He finished with a smile; Rachel nodded, reassured, for he had no reason to lie.

"Any more questions?" Gemma asked, composing herself. There were none. "Okay. Now, I recommend that you go and get some sleep- you've got a big day ahead of you tomorrow."

Taking her word for it, the first years went their separate ways; the boys through the door to the left and the girls' through the door to the right.

The girls were greeted by the sight of a surprisingly well lit staircase leading down deeper underground. Exchanging rather nervous glances, the girls descended the staircase. After a few moments they saw a door to their right with a lopsided sign on it reading 'Sixth Years' and a door to their right with a sign reading 'Seventh Years'; further down the the stairs, they found two other doors, the one on the left reading 'Fourth Years' and on the right, 'Fifth Years.' The girls kept climbing down the staircase, passing another two doors labeled 'Second Years' and 'Third Years', until finally, at the very bottom of the staircase, on the right hand side, they found the door labeled 'First Years.' Daphne Greengrass opened the door and led the way inside.

Their dormitory was a large, circular room with a brown iron heater in the exactly middle, warming the room. A second door faced the first years from the other side of the room, presumably leading to a bathroom; and five beds, all of them with a trunk and animal cage at their end and bookended by black, cabinet style bedside tables, were evenly spaced around the room, a window with a view of the depths of the Black Lake between each bed.

Daphne Greengrass' trunk- labelled 'DG'- and an empty owl cage stood at the end of the bed nearest the door; then Millicent Bulstrode's trunk- labelled 'MB'- and an empty cat carrier stood at the end of the next bed, and a black cat was asleep on the end of the bed; then Pansy Parkinson's trunk- labelled 'PP'- and an empty owl cage stood at the end of the bed in the middle of the five; at the end of the next bed was Rachel's trunk- labelled 'RB'- and Artemisia's empty cage; and at the end of last bed, nearest the bathroom, was Tracey Davis's trunk- labelled 'TD'- and an empty cat carrier; a tabby cat with china blue eyes was licking its paws beside the pillow.

"I'm surprised our cats aren't fighting, Millicent," Tracey said as the girls crossed to their respective beds and started to get ready to sleep. "Glover's usually not very friendly towards other cats."

"Oh, well Ryan doesn't take much notice of anyone but himself." Millicent replied with a smile as she opened her trunk. As well as her pajamas, she pulled from her trunk two rolled up pieces of parchment and a roll of Spello-tape. Unrolling one of the parchments, she stuck it to the wall beside her bed carefully with the tape, and stepped back to admire it. It turned out to be a poster of a Quidditch team clad in green robes- a small bubble of text in the bottom right hand corner announced them to be the 'Irish National Quidditch team.' It was then Rachel remembered where she had seen Millicent before- outside Quality Quidditch Supplies in Diagon Alley, where she had been begging her father for the Nimbus Two Thousand broomstick.

"You don't support England?" Tracey asked her, looking curious.

"No," Millicent shook her head. "Haven't since I saw them fail to qualify for the 1987 World Cup. They were awful- worse than the Chudley Cannons. But I've also supported the The Tornados since I was five." She unrolled the second piece of parchment and stuck it carefully to the wall, too, beneath the first. This, too, turned out to be a poster of a Quidditch team; this one and labelled 'The Tutshill Tornados.'

She was not the only one who had brought something from home, however; Daphne had a gorgeous white alarm clock in the shape of an owl, with the face of the clock itself set into the owl's stomach; and Pansy pulled a large Muggle sketchbook from her trunk, several loose sheets spilling out as she did so. Pulling out her own roll of Spello-tape from her trunk, she began to stick them to the wall beside her bed, too. They turned out to be a number of beautiful sketches; designs of different robes, shoes and hats.

With an "Oooh!" of delight, Daphne stooped brushing her hair and looked over in Pansy's direction. "Did you draw those, Pansy?" she asked. "They're beautiful."

"Thanks, and yes, I did," Pansy nodded, smiling. "These are some of my finished designs."

"Oh, are you going to make these?"

"I'm hoping to yes." Pansy nodded. "I've asked my parents for the equipment I need for Christmas, already…"

"I'm not really the biggest fan of Quidditch, but I have always supported the Montrose Magpies…" Tracey was saying to Millicent.

All of the other girls seemed to be feeling very much at ease as they got ready for bed; unlike Rachel, who still felt sick and uncertain and out of place, too. Quickly changing into her pajamas, Rachel took her brown leather bound notebook Marcus had given her for her birthday, said a quiet, but polite goodnight to the other girls in her dormitory and got into her bed, pulling the hangings closed around her.

Only now no one could see her, did Rachel allow her guard to drop. Her shoulders sagged, the corners of her mouth turned down and her chin wobbled as she sank down beneath the bedclothes. Pulling the covers up to her chin, she reached for her notebook and opened it to the first page. Tears filled the corners of her eyes as she read:

 _PLAN TO BECOME MINISTER FOR MAGIC_

 _Get Hogwarts letter_

 _Purchase wand, textbooks, etc._

 _Be Sorted into_ _Ravenclaw_

 _Become Prefect, then Head Girl_

 _Get the marks required for a job in the Ministry_

 _Use_ _marks to get an internship in either the Improper Use of Magic Office OR_ _Wizengamot Administration Services in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (Latter preferably.)_

 _Turn internship into full-time job_ _._

 _Develop good work eithic and by extension reputation_

 _Us_ _e_ _reputation to climb to get Head of Office/Services_

 _Do the same again to become head of_ _Department of Magical Law Enforcement_

 _Campaign to become Minister of Magic OR use_ _good_ _reputation_ _and its benefits_ _to become Advisor to the Minister depending on political circumstances (campaign for job ASAP in the event of the latter.)_

 _Become Minister for Magic._

…Her entire plan depended upon her being in Ravenclaw; her entire life she had been conditioned to believe that she was destined to be in Ravenclaw, that being in any other House was unacceptable… she had thought she was a cookie cutter for Ravenclaw, and had always delighted in the fact, for it meant she was like her family; that she fit in, and had a safe place to turn to if anything ever went wrong. Now, now something had gone wrong, and so badly she had no safe place, and no idea who she really was.

' _SLYTHERIN!'_

The decisiveness of the Sorting Hat's call echoed through her mind, making her stomach churn... Rachel closed her eyes against it and delved into her memories, desperate to find something, anything, that would give her clarity; sanity.

The first thing that came to mind was something that happened only a few hours before; though it felt like days; weeks, even. She had been sitting on the Hogwarts Express with Marcus, Oliver, Lisa and Terry; and Marcus and Oliver were trying to convince the first years that there was more to the Sorting than putting on the Hat. She had made her tone nonchalant, shrugged, and said that they were lying, knowing that the skepticism would make one of them tell them what they were allegedly facing; and Oliver had…

…Then there was the time she had weaseled an explanation about Dorothy Belby from her father without getting into trouble- she had dropped her gaze to her shoes, acted ashamed an apologised profusely at the right moments…

… Then there were the smaller, vaguer memories: the time she had persuaded her mother to buy her a 500-piece jigsaw puzzle when she was seven for a challenge, even though she had never even started a puzzle before but was determined to do so; and the time she had blamed her stealing a cupcake from the kitchen on Marcus, when she was eight. Susanne had banned her and Marcus from touching them, as they were part of desert for a dinner party; but Rachel hadn't been able to resist the temptation and snuck down and stole one. After she had eaten it at the bottom of the garden, she had snuck the wrapper into the drawer of Marcus's black desk - a common colour in her brother's room- despite his dark blue bedroom walls-, all the better to show off his florescent, light up dragon stickers, he said- and gone over to her Grandmother's house; saying adamantly that she hadn't been near the kitchen and had been with Elspeth all afternoon when the wrapper was found by Susanne and Marcus accused her. Marcus had ended up getting banned from dessert at the party. He had stuck an enormous ward of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum in her hair as revenge, but Rachel hadn't minded too much- Marcus had got in trouble all over again for that, her now much shorter hair made it practically impossible for such a thing to happen again, and she had still got away with stealing the cupcake.

Tears pressed against Rachel's eyelids. She opened her eyes and wiped them away, sniffing as quietly as she could as the lights in the dormitories were extinguished and the other girls in her dormitory said goodnight to one another.

… Her Sorting had thrown her whole life under a microscope; everything she had thought she knew about herself now felt wrong and alien, as though she was somehow thinking about the life of a complete stranger…

Except she was the stranger.

Rachel's head span. All at once, the necklace her Grandmother had given her on the train station felt wrong and dirty against her skin, and she felt as though she shouldn't be wearing it. Reaching around behind her neck, Rachel slid the clasp of the necklace around to her front and unclasped it, pulling it from the back of her neck and slipping her hand through the curtains of her bed, dropping it onto her right beside table and retracting her hand quickly, pulling the curtain closed again so she couldn't see it. But this did not go all too far in appeasing her spinning head, and desperate once again for clarity and sanity Rachel dove back into her memories; but now they seemed different somehow; her actions sly and manipulative.

Tears filled her eyes again, and this time Rachel made no move to stop them. Instead she slid her glasses off her nose, dropping them onto the open pages of her notebook as tears streamed down her cheeks, and as her now sly, manipulative memories played before her mind's eye a single thought filled her mind.

" _I always thought that was just me being clever… I guess I'm really not Ravenclaw material."_

Sobs shook her shoulders as fresh tears welled in her eyes and poured down her cheeks. A small whimper escaped her as, lost in a swirling vortex of uncertainty, fear and misery, Rachel turned onto her front, burying her head into her pillow to muffle the sound of her upset and wept, until she knew no more.

 **A/N: Please review! :)**


	8. Chapter 8: To Find a Way

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else that may be referenced in this chapter.**

 **A/N: Mammoth thank you to you all. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)**

 **Twitter: Prof_McGonagal**

 **Chapter 8: To Find a Way**

 _Tears filled her eyes again, and this time Rachel made no move to stop them. Instead she slid her glasses off her nose, dropping them onto the open pages of her notebook as tears streamed down her cheeks, and as her now sly, manipulative memories played before her mind's eye a single thought filled her mind._

 **"** _I always thought that was just me being clever… I guess I'm really not Ravenclaw material."_

 _Sobs shook her shoulders as fresh tears welled in her eyes and poured down her cheeks. A small whimper escaped her as, lost in a swirling vortex of uncertainty, fear and misery, Rachel turned onto her front, burying her head into her pillow to muffle the sound of her upset and wept, until she knew no more._

When Rachel awoke the next morning, for moment she couldn't think very well at all. She didn't know where she was or why she felt so utterly lost and miserable, or why her eyes felt so stiff and dry and stung painfully when she blinked, or why her pillow was damp. But then her memory of the previous night came back to her, and tears sprung to her eyes again. Forcing back a sob, Rachel fumbled for her bed sheet and wiped her eyes, fighting to control her emotions. She had a whole day to get through before she could crawl back into bed and pull the hangings closed, and as much as she wanted to just stay curled up in bed all day and cry, she knew it wasn't really an option and she certainly wasn't not going to spend the day bawling her eyes out in front of everyone. She had to hold herself together.

Deciding to practise doing just that before she had to face the rest of the school, Rachel sat up and looked around her bed for her glasses, squinting to see, remembering that she had left them on her notebook the night before. Catching sight of both her glasses and her notebook lying where she had left them, Rachel picked up the former and slid them onto her nose, and her vision restored, she wiped away some stray tears that had fallen on the glass and her notebook, taking care not to read the words on the page. Steeling herself in case she had to face someone sooner than she expected, she pulled one of the curtains around her bed back.

The dormitory around her was bathed in a soft sea green light that was shining through the windows in between the beds, curtesy of the sunlight streaking through the Lake outside. The curtains around the beds of the three girls to her right were drawn, and the face of Daphne Greengrass' white owl-shaped clock told Rachel it was a quarter to six in the morning. Remembering what Gemma Farley had said about breakfast starting at seven o'clock, Rachel picked up her notebook and closed it, again without looking at the pages, and got out of bed. She paused upon catching sight of the necklace her grandmother had given her on her bedside table. She knew she wouldn't feel comfortable wearing it again, but nor did she feel comfortable sending it back in a letter- it was too important to her grandmother. Deciding to wait until the next time she saw her grandmother, Rachel picked up the necklace and carried it along with her notebook to her trunk, moving as quietly as possible as to not disturb the rest of the girls in her dormitory- the curtains around Tracey Davis's bed were drawn, too. As she reached her trunk, she saw a large, brown package tied together with string lying on the lid. Puzzled, Rachel looked around and saw that the other girls in her dormitory had an identical package atop their own trunks. Reaching for hers, Rachel sat down in front of her trunk, set her notebook and the necklace down beside her and pulled the parcel onto her lap. She pulled at the string bow holding the package together, and the parcel opened neatly in her lap.

Inside there were five badges emblazoned with the Slytherin crest- green with a silver border and a silver snake in its centre; three green ties striped with silver; a black jumper with green and silver stitching around the neck and sleeves; two green and silver striped scarves; two similarly decorated flags and five black hoods with the insides composed of silky, green material.

A lump rose in Rachel's throat. Slytherin décor. Her fingers trembling slightly, she set aside a badge, hood and tie and wrapped the rest back up in the paper as quietly as she could. Opening her trunk, she set the parcel down inside it; picking up her notebook, she set it down in the bottom of the front of her trunk and covered it carefully with a jumper. Picking up her grandmother's necklace, Rachel buried it carefully amongst her socks in the back left hand corner of her trunk, before grabbing the rest of the clothes and things she needed to get ready for the day- including filling her new schoolbag with all her textbooks, several rolls of parchment some quills and bottles of ink- and, closing her trunk softly. Getting to her feet, Rachel shouldered her now rather heavy schoolbag, clutched everything else to her chest and entered the dormitory's bathroom to get ready for the day.

By the time she emerged from the bathroom, Daphne Greengrass' owl shaped alarm clock was hooting loudly and Daphne's hand was fumbling through the curtains around her bed to switch it off, to the accompaniment of groans, creaks and yawns from the other three beds in the room.

Quickly, Rachel shot across the dormitory and out the door, hurrying up the stone steps to the Slytherin common room, pulling up the strap of her schoolbag as it slid down her shoulder. For all her thoughts of practising keeping herself together, the sudden awakening of her dorm mates was not something she had anticipated, so she felt very under prepared indeed. Rachel slowed her pace as she reached the doors that lead to the common room from the dormitory, and with a small sigh of relief, she straightened her black headband she had put on that was hopefully still doing the job she intended it to- keeping her hair tidy- pushed open the doors and entered the common room. Now, at least, she could curl up in a chair in a shadowy corner and prepare herself for the day ahead.

"Well, someone's in a hurry to start the day- breakfast doesn't start for another hour if I remember correctly."

A rather deep, gravely, yet superior sounding voice spoke as the doors to the girls' dormitory swung shut behind Rachel. She started slightly, and looked around for whoever had spoken. But the common room was quite deserted.

"I'm over here, girl- on the wall opposite the fireplace." The voice spoke again.

Rachel looked to the wall opposite the fireplace and saw the large portrait of Merlin was awake and waving at her.

"Oh- hello, sir." She said. It felt rather strange calling a painting 'sir', but then again it was a portrait of Merlin, who was arguably the greatest wizard of all time, and there was no disadvantage to being polite.

"You look troubled young first year," Merlin said, looking at her. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, sir," Rachel lied, shaking her head.

"Convincing, but I saw your face when you entered the room." Merlin replied simply, dismissing the lie. "I've been hanging on this wall for hundreds of years, my dear, and I've helped many a Slytherin student out with a problem- there's nothing else for me to do around here; there won't be anyone at the Ministry at this hour so my other portrait will be even more boring and I don't know anyone who would care about the problems of Hogwarts' students, so everything you say will stay private."

Rachel hesitated. Perhaps telling someone about her predicament would help her practise controlling her emotions, and it was not as though she had anyone else to turn to- Marcus had made it quite clear that he wanted nothing to do with her anymore in the Great Hall last night, and as for the rest of her family… well, she didn't like to think of their expressions when they found out she wasn't in Ravenclaw. Shaking her head to clear it of the thought, Rachel turned her attention back to the portrait of Merlin.

"I'm afraid it's rather a long story, sir." She said.

"We've both got time," Merlin gestured to the clock atop the mantelpiece across the common room. "You've almost an hour before breakfast and I've forever to hang here." He gestured again, this time to the table and eight chairs that stood to the left of his portrait. "Please, sit."

Deciding to see if the portrait could offer her any advice, Rachel crossed the common room, sat down in one of the chairs around the table; dropping her schoolbag down beside her as she did so. Taking a deep, calming breath, she started down at her shoes and took a moment to think out what she wanted to say before looking up at the portrait of Merlin and saying:

"My name is Rachel, sir; Rachel Belby. I don't know if you know this, but my family- the Belby family- we've always been in Ravenclaw; we're quite well known for it. There's only been one person in my family Sorted outside of Ravenclaw in two hundred and fifty years and nobody likes to talk about them- I had to manipulate my father to tell me why the person who was Sorted outside of Ravenclaw wasn't accepted, as I read that one of the traits associated with Ravenclaw House is acceptance, sir; and my father said that the family member wasn't accepted because the Ravenclaw trait of acceptance applies to Ravenclaws who're eccentric and such, not members of other Houses. And- and the thing is, sir, obviously I'm not in Ravenclaw, and the Sorting Hat was undoubtedly very certain about my being Sorted here, into Slytherin, and last night my older brother and my two best friends wouldn't look at me after my Sorting- they're in Ravenclaw- and I know that the rest of my family will react the same way and I'm afraid that I'm going to be excommunicated like the last person Sorted outside of Ravenclaw was, and my whole life I've been convinced that I'm going to be in in Ravenclaw and now I'm not and I'm not even sure who I am anymore, or what I'm going to do- I've been set on becoming Minister for Magic since I first visited the Ministry when I was nine, you see, and I came up with a plan to help me do so, but it revolves around my being in Ravenclaw, and now I'm not, and I don't know what to do!" Rachel's voice rose slightly shrilly as she finished speaking and tears sprung to the corners of her eyes. Embarrassed, she wiped them away and scrabbled around her mind for her own solution. "…Sh- should I go to a Professor and ask to be moved?"

"Certainly not- Such a thing would be absolutely abhorrent!" Merlin said, and so indignantly that Rachel started. "Not to mention that you would be sent away with a well deserved sharp word- questioning the Sorting Hat when even you yourself admitted he was certain- _pah!"_

"I'm sorry, sir," Rachel said quickly, half-raising her hands in surrender. Merlin exhaled with a huff.

"I should think so too. Now, you listen to me, Miss Belby." He went on in a slightly calmer, yet very frank tone of voce. "Just because you have been Sorted into Slytherin and not Ravenclaw does not mean you are any different a person from the one you have been your entire life, and though you may not feel this way at present, it is the simple truth. All your being Sorted into Slytherin means is that you are different from the rest of your family, and being different is _not_ a bad thing. If your family and friends insist it is than they are, quite frankly, not worth worrying about- though, of course, you will not feel that way." He added, as Rachel opened her mouth to protest. "You are not a bad person because you have been Sorted into Slytherin. There is a certain stigma around us, yes, thanks to certain witches and wizards, but the traits actually desired for members by the original founder of Slytherin, Salazar Slytherin are: ambition, resourcefulness, fraternity, cleverness, cunning, and determination. I myself was a Slytherin, and in my opinion, what you have to do is find a way to adapt. You mentioned that you want to become Minister for Magic when you are older and have developed a plan to do so. If you really are so determined, adapt your plan so that it revolves around Slytherin, rather than Ravenclaw; and adapt your mindset so that you can be happy not only throughout you time here at Hogwarts, but throughout the rest of your life. Remember that you are the same person you have always been and stick to that remembrance no matter what anyone may say, and know that the Sorting Hat would not have Sorted you into Slytherin if it didn't believe you belong and will flourish here; it never Sorts anyone anywhere it doesn't think they belong and will flourish. Its whole point is to assign each student to the House that suits them best. If it didn't know what it was doing it would not be used."

Rachel exhaled herself- she had to admit that Merlin had a point in some of the things he had said. "…But what if I can't adapt?" she asked nervously, rather afraid for Merlin's answer.

"Then you end up very unhappy." Merlin replied simply. "But you see Miss Belby, adapting to new, frightening and difficult situations is not an easy thing to do, admittedly, but it is certainly possible if you have the right mindset and determination. All you have to do, is find a way to make things work for you; change little things, to make the big, unchangeable thing work out in best way possible for you. Who knows, one day you might be grateful to the unchangeable thing. It may even turn out to be a blessing- but it will only do so, if you find a way to make it one. Do you understand?"

Rachel hesitated for a moment, her mind flying to think through everything Merlin had said. Certainly, she could adapt her plan to work for Slytherin and not Ravenclaw; but as for her feelings about herself… Rachel bit the inside of her lip, thinking yet again back over her memories… the same memories, she registered now, that she'd always had.

…Maybe she really was the same person she had always been- she had just grown up seeing her memories and herself in one light, when really there was a more accurate light she should be using instead; a different, better light. But then there were her family and friends- maybe, if they didn't accept her, she could try and get them to see things her way… Then there was the matter of whether or not she could adapt…

Thoughts of failure flooded Rachel's mind suddenly. She saw herself huddled in a dark alleyway somewhere, poor jobless and alone; having failed to adapt and succeed in anything she'd tried. Her blood turned to ice in her veins, shivering slightly, she shoved the thoughts away with all her might.

She had to adapt- no, she was determined to adapt. She was not going to let the fact that she was not in Ravenclaw ruin her entire life. As this thought passed through her brain, the Sorting Hat's small voice echoed through her mind as it had during her Sorting:

" _Well, Miss Belby there's really only one place I can put you- yes, once again I'd be doing myself, and you, a great disservice by putting you anywhere else; please, remember that, Miss Belby, as well as the fact that I am always completely certain before I announce my decision…"_

It would be a challenge, yes, but she was going to follow Merlin's advice- she was going to find a way to make things work.

Slowly, but certainly, she nodded.

"Yes," she said quietly, looking up at Merlin. "Yes, I do."

Merlin smiled. "I'm glad." He said. "Well, Miss Belby-" He looked across the room to the clock on the mantelpiece as he spoke; doing the same, Rachel saw it was twenty-to-six. "-I suggest that you start making your way to breakfast. It can be difficult to navigate the dungeons at first and you need some time to spare if you're going to make it in time by yourself."

"Okay." Rachel smiled back. got to her feet, picking up her schoolbag and swinging it over her over her shoulder. "Thank you for your help, sir."

"You're very welcome, Miss Belby," Merlin answered. "Have a good day."

"You too, sir." Rachel replied, waving as she left the common room; the door in the wall sliding open as she reached it. As she made her way along the corridor that led up to the entrance to the common room, she realised that she no longer felt as though she needed to practise keeping herself together anymore; she was still a little disappointed that she was not in Ravenclaw, yes; but she knew that if she belonged in Ravenclaw the Sorting Hat would have put her there, and she was determined that one way or another, she was going make things work. Suddenly, Rachel felt as though the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders and for the first time, Rachel glanced down at the Slytherin additions to her robes and neatened her tie and straightened her badge- she had tried to look at them as little as possible previously, even when she was in the bathroom. Smiling as she imagined herself somehow triumphing over the faceless, shapeless challenge that was her being Sorted outside of Ravenclaw, Rachel reached the end of the corridor and turned into the next, trying to think back to the previous night and work her way back from the common room to the Entrance Hall.

Some fifteen minutes later, Rachel exhaled with relief and hurried up the stone staircase that led to the Entrance Hall from the dungeons, shivering slightly. She had got lost seven times in the dungeon corridors and discovered that some of them were rather colder and darker than the ones that actually led from the common room to the Entrance Hall, and she had no desire to return to them any time soon.

Hugging her arms to warm them, Rachel crossed the Entrance Hall and entered the Great Hall, her stomach growling- she had been too sick to her stomach to have much of an appetite after her Sorting.

Though breakfast was not quite due to be served, she was not the only one in the Great Hall. A thin witch with enormous glasses that made magnified the size of her eyes who Rachel did not remember seeing the night before sat up at the staff table, muttering under her breath as she examined her hand; a couple of dark-haired studious-looking seventh year Ravenclaw girls were hunched over textbooks at the Ravenclaw table; two blonde-haired third year Hufflepuff twins boy were playing Exploding Snap at the Hufflepuff table; the red-haired Gryffindor prefect who, Rachel remembered, had shaken hands with Harry Potter the night before was, too, hunched over a textbook at the Gryffindor table; and a platinum-blonde haired sixth year Slytherin boy sat at the Slytherin table, scribbling over a long roll of parchment. He glanced up as Rachel passed him and offered her a half-smile when he saw her green and silver tie. Rachel smiled back in kind, continuing down the table and sitting down where she had sat the night before, facing the rest of the hall. Just as she did so, the gold plates, jugs and toast racks running down the centre of the four house tables and the staff table filled themselves with food and drink. The jugs were filled with ice cold juices and milk, and the plates were piled high with bacon, eggs, pancakes, tomatoes, mushrooms, hash browns and what seemed like every other kind of hot breakfast food; the toast racks were suddenly filled with fresh, varyingly toasted slices of toast; several steaming tea and coffee pots surrounded by cups materialised out of nowhere; and there were too, all kinds of cereals, toppings, jams and fruits. Her stomach growling anew, Rachel filed her plate with eggs and toast, added some mushrooms, filled her goblet with pumpkin juice and started to eat.

The Hall steadily filled up with students and staff as the hour progressed; though the witch with enormous glasses left the hall fifteen minutes after the food arrived, having consumed two slices of toast and a cup of tea. The rest of the first year Slytherin girls arrived together, all of them looking as relieved as Rachel had felt upon finding the way to the Entrance and then the Great Hall from the dungeons.

"Hello, Rachel," Millicent said, as she and the girls sat down beside Rachel, and something in the small smiles they gave her made her think that perhaps she had not quite muffled her crying enough.

Rachel smiled back, embarrassed. "Hello." She replied politely, tensing slightly despite herself as she caught sight of Marcus and Oliver walking into the Great Hall. But Marcus did not sit down at the Ravenclaw table, perhaps with his back to her, as Rachel expected. Instead, both he and Oliver paused just past the doors, scanned the Slytherin table, and caught sight of her. Oliver said something to Marcus, who nodded, and walked down the aisle between the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables. Oliver walked down the gap between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, sitting down at the former and pulling a plate of bacon towards him.

"Hey, Rachel," Marcus said, smiling at her rather sheepishly as he drew level with her; the other first year girls and the Slytherins around them looked at him curiously, and the older students with slight hostility. Marcus ignored them, keeping his gaze on his sister. "Can I talk to you for a moment, please?" he nodded to a space of wall a short way from the end of the Slytherin table.

Rachel felt rather taken aback. For one thing, Marcus talking to her after she had been Sorted outside of Ravenclaw and for another, he was _smiling_ at her after she had been Sorted outside of Ravenclaw. Rather warily, she nodded wordlessly and got to her feet, following Marcus to the space of wall he had indicated.

Marcus turned to face her as they reached it, looking concerned.

"How are you?" he asked.

Rachel stared at him, more surprised and wary than ever. "…I'm okay." She answered.

Marcus seemed to catch on to how she was feeling; for he looked sheepish again and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I've been thinking and I'm sorry for blanking you last night. It wasn't right; it was just your Sorting, it was a bit of a shock; and I needed time to process it."

Rachel stared at him, bewildered. "…You're not angry with me?" she asked looking up at her brother anxiously. "You're not going to excommunicate me, like Dorothy Belby?"

"No, Rachel, I'm not," Marcus answered firmly. "I told you, I've thought everything over, and I've decided that no matter what House you're in, I know you; you're my baby sister, and I'll always be there for you."

Rachel smiled, relief washing over her. In her brother's eyes, at least, she was still family. "I needed to process it, too," she said. "I'm only just coming around, really. Thank you for not, you know, turning against me."

"Don't mention it," Marcus smiled back. "In hindsight we should have seen this coming: you blamed me for stealing that cupcake when you six without batting an eye- even planted the wrapper in my bedroom and nicked off to Grandmother's to give yourself an alibi." He smiled, though Rachel noticed his smile wavered as his gaze passed hers and landed on the green material in the hood of her uniform. He flushed sheepishly as she caught his eye. "… Still going to be a bit of an adjustment, though."

"Yeah," Rachel agreed softly, nodding. She swallowed thickly, finally voicing the though she was the most nervous about. "…What about Mum and Dad?" she asked quietly, forcing herself to look at Marcus.

Marcus hesitated, then sighed heavily, and Rachel felt a jolt of fear when she saw that her brother looked as nervous and uncertain as she felt.

"I dunno, Rachel," he replied. "You know as well as I do that they're terribly house-proud, especially Dad."

"Yes," Rachel agreed. "But if _you've_ thought everything over and come around-"

"I'm not them," Marcus pointed out. "And anyway, I as House-proud as I myself am, I like to think that I'm rather more open minded than they are; something which I think stems from the fact that I rather think that sometimes Mum and Dad go a bit overboard with their Ravenclaw pride- I mean, the amount of blue and bronze décor in our house is downright ridiculous. That's why a lot of the furniture in my bedroom is black- I had Ceesy change it with her elf-magic and told Mum and Dad it was a better colour for my dragon stickers so I wouldn't hurt their feelings- but don't tell them I said that." He added quickly.

"I won't," Rachel promised. She bit the inside of her lip nervously, pushing glasses up her nose. "…How should I tell them about- about my Sorting, though?"

Marcus bit the inside of his lip, too, looking thoughtful. "…Write to them- tonight." He advised. "They'll be expecting you to, to tell them about your Sorting; and if you do what they're expecting it might- well, nothing is going to normalise this, but at least you'd have told them."

Rachel chewed the inside of her lip. She knew Marcus was right, but she rather thought that the act of writing to her parents was one that was easier said than done.

"… Can you do it for me?" she asked, smiling weakly.

"Oh Merlin no- I'm not involving myself in that." Marcus shook his head fervently. His stomach growled loudly as he spoke and he grinned sheepishly. "I'm going to go and get some breakfast." He gestured to the Ravenclaw table. "If you need anything at all, you can come to me- and good luck with your classes."

"Thanks; you too." Rachel said. "See you later."

"See you." Marcus replied, turning and crossing the Hall to the seat beside Oliver at the Ravenclaw table.

Rachel returned to her own seat at the Slytherin table. By this time the first year Slytherin boys- minus Blaise Zabini- had arrived for breakfast, and Rachel found herself sitting opposite Theodore Nott as she sat down and poured herself a fresh glass of pumpkin juice- the food seemed to automatically refresh itself at regular intervals.

"…You've never played chess?" Nott was saying to Pansy Parkinson, staring at her incredulously. "Never, in your life?"

"No." she replied. "My father has a chess set in his office, a really big one, but it's kept in this big glass box that's unbreakable and locked with a key; but the day he locked it up he had a bad cold, and was so out of things he drunk a Forgetfulness potion instead of a Cough Potion and has yet to remember where he put the key to the box." She grinned.

The others laughed.

"I tried to make a forgetfulness potion once," Tracey Davis said. "But I added an extra by mistake and it exploded everywhere; nightmare."

"I remember that," Daphne Greengrass nodded. "I don't know how these potions are invented in the first place."

"Neither do I, really," Tracey agreed. "Do you, Rachel?"

"No," Rachel shook her head. Tracey looked confused.

"Aren't you the niece of Damocles Belby, though?" she asked. "The Potioneer?"

"Yes, I am; and I assume so- I'm not sure what he's doing," Rachel said. "How did you know that, though?"

"Well, you _do_ have the same surname, and you're mentioned in his biography." Tracey said.

"Biography?" Rachel repeated, bewildered.

"Yeah- the one published last year; it says that Damocles has one brother, Flavius, and a nephew and a niece, Marcus and Rachel." Tracey explained. "…You didn't know about it?" she asked, seeing Rachel looked more bewildered than ever.

"No," Rachel shook her head again. "He and my father don't really get along, you see." She added, slightly awkwardly.

"Oh," Tracey seemed to think for a moment, but did not look too surprised. "Well, if you want you can read my copy; I have it in my trunk the dormitory."

"Yes, please," Rachel smiled.

Tracey smiled back. At that moment, Rachel saw Terry and Lisa enter the Great Hall together, conversing in low voices. Lisa, Rachel noticed, looked slightly upset, but nonetheless nodded in response to whatever Terry was saying; Terry, for his part, looked resolute. Wondering what they were talking about, Rachel watched the two make their way down the gap between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables; but they passed by where she sat with the other Slytherins without looking at her, and sat down at the end of the Ravenclaw table with the other first year Ravenclaws, their backs to the Slytherin table.

Something in their actions made Rachel feel rather as though she knew what- or rather, who- they had been talking about, and she looked away; seconds later, however, a great swooshing noise filled the Great Hall from the ceiling above, and looking up with the other first years, her mouth falling open in surprise as she saw around a hundred owls of every size, colour and species flying down through the high windows, all of them carrying letters, or parcels, or both, circling the tables in the Hall until they caught sight of their owners and swooped down to deliver their mail. Rachel searched the owls as carefully as she could, but did not see Artemisia, nor, thankfully, did she see her family's grey owl, Rowena. Relieved, Rachel returned her gaze to her plate and goblet, draining the last of her pumpkin juice. She had scarcely set he goblet down again before Zabini arrived and sat down in the seat beside Nott, dropping his bag to the floor at his feet as he did so.

"You took your time." Nott remarked over the top of a letter a proud-looking barn owl had just brought him. "Find it alright?"

"Fine." Zabini replied simply, pulling the nearest toast rack towards him and offering a piece to Nott's owl. The bird stopped regarding Nott haughtily in favour of snatching the toast from Zabini's fingers. He hooted in thanks, though the sound was slightly muffled; then he flew up, through the high windows and vanished from sight.

"Why does he like you better than me?" Nott asked Zabini, looking disgruntled. "He's my family's owl."

"He likes toast, and I feed him toast." Zabini shrugged, picking up another two slices and dropping them onto his plate.

Some twenty minutes later, what little was left of the freshest round of breakfast food vanished from every plate, and the staff got up from their seats and left the Hall. Four members of staff remained, however- Professor McGonagall; the bat-like greasy haired wizard, Professor Snape; a tiny wizard with white hair and a white beard Rachel thought from her parents and Marcus's stories of Hogwarts to be Professor Flitwick; and a squat, plump witch with wavy grey hair, a patched hat and a kind smile Rachel didn't know. Each of the four professors, all of them clutching large piles of parchment, made their down one of the four tables- Professor McGonagall, the Gryffindor table; Professor Flitwick; the Ravenclaw table; the grey-haired witch, the Hufflepuff table; and Professor Snape the Slytherin table- tapping each individual sheet of parchment with their wands and handing them out to each student in turn.

"Welcome, first years." Professor Snape said curtly, pausing at the end of the Slytherin table, where the first years sat. "I'm Professor Snape, your Head of House; I trust one of the prefects would have pointed out my office to you last night. Here are your timetables-," he tapped the top ten pieces of parchment with the tip of his wand, and handed them around; nodding in response to their thanks. "As you can see, your first class is History of Magic, in Classroom 72. This room is located on the third floor, in a small corridor off the right hand side of the main corridor- which commonly referred to as the Charms corridor. I suggest that you leave now so that you aren't late. Have a pleasant day."

He strode off up the table to the next group of Slytherins without waiting for a response.

"… Shall- shall we go, then?" Pansy Parkinson asked, slightly awkwardly.

"Yeah," Draco Malfoy nodded and the first years got to their feet, swung their bags over their shoulders and walked up the gap between the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables; Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle falling into step on either side of Draco Malfoy as they did so.

Just as the first year she Slytherins reached the doors of the Great Hall, Terry, Lisa and the rest of the first year Ravenclaws did, too. Draco Malfoy made to push past Anthony Goldstein, who moved forwards and a shuffling followed as neither group was prepared to let the other pass through the door.

Rachel bit the inside of her lip, feeling awkward at the being some close to her two best friends when they had scarcely looked at each other and hadn't spoken since their Sortings the previous night. And there was, Rachel realised, only one way the air was going to be cleared.

"Lisa; Terry," she said to the two as Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle pushed past Anthony Goldstein; the two groups paused momentarily and looked around, but everyone, bar Terry, Lisa and Rachel kept walking- the Slytherins forcing their way in front of the Ravenclaws and across the threshold into the Great Hall- as Rachel went on: "Can we talk, please?"

"We have to go to Defence Against the Dark Arts." Terry said, looking after first year Ravenclaws.

"It will only take a minute." Rachel said. Terry and Lisa exchanged glances, then nodded.

"Fine." Terry muttered.

Wanting to keep things friendly, Rachel resisted the urge to make a sarcastic remark, instead leading the other two a short way from the doors to the Great Hall so they were not blocking anyone's path.

"Is everything alright between us?" she asked, turning to face the two when they stopped.

"Not, really, no." Terry replied curtly. Rachel felt her temper sparked slightly, but pushed it down.

"Look, I know my Sorting was… unexpected," she said. "But nothing's really changed- I'm the same person I've always been."

"You say that," Terry replied, "but Slytherins _are_ very cunning and manipulative..." he trailed off.

"What do you mean by that?" Rachel asked, confused. She looking between Terry and Lisa, who looked as though she agreed with Terry's words. Then answer dawned on her and Rachel stared at them both, amazed. "You're being ridiculous." She said, laughing in her disbelief. "You're not _seriously_ suggesting that that I've been hiding who I am from you for all the time we've been friends? Why would I do that?"

"I dunno," Terry shrugged. "I'm not a Slytherin."

Rachel gaped at him in disbelief, her desire to keep things friendly fading away rapidly as her temper flared and she made no effort to stop it.

"We- we just don't know what to think!" Lisa spoke up, as Rachel opened her mouth to speak, glaring at Terry. "Your whole family's been in Ravenclaw for two and a half centuries and who knows how long before that; then you're in Slytherin. It's pause for thought."

"It just means I'm different!" Rachel pointed out. "Just because Slytherin has produced some Dark Wizards doesn't mean everyone in Slytherin's a bad person! Slytherins aren't just cunning and manipulative, we're resourceful and ambitious and determined- and those aren't necessarily bad things!"

"No, but your Sorting is still a pause for thought." Terry said. "You barely even reacted last night when you were Sorted!"

"Well, I was hardly going to let myself burst into tears and pass out in front of the entire school was I?!" Rachel fired back. She stared at Terry and Lisa for a moment, incensed; suddenly feeling as though they didn't know each other at all; that she shouldn't have to explain herself to anyone, never mind her two closest friends. Merlin's words about those who did not accept her after her Sorting not being worth worrying about returned to her, and though she did not agree in the case of her family-

"You know what?" she began, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. "I've tried to put things right, but clearly it's not going to happen. I'm not going to explain myself to you. If you two don't trust me anymore, or you don't want to be my friend anymore, or whatever, because of my being Sorted into Slytherin, then that's fine. You don't have to trust me. We don't have to be friends. Have nice lives, both of you, and I'll see you around."

Stepping forwards, she strode around Lisa and joined the crowd of students crowding around the doors and leaving the Great Hall. Neither Terry nor Lisa made any effort to call her back, or voice a response.

A lump rose in her throat and tears stung behind her eyes as she strode across the Entrance Hall, but Rachel ignored the lump resolutely; wiping her eyes angrily and pushing her glasses back up as they slid down her nose. It was unpleasant, yes- ending her friendship with the two people she was closest to outside her family; but clearly, their lives had changed. Everything was different now.

And one way or another, she was going to find a way to make things work.

 **A/N: Please review! :)**


	9. Chapter 9: The First Week

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else that may be referenced in this chapter. The** _ **bold, italic, underline text**_ **are direct quotes from the Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone book.**

 **A/N: Huge thank you to you all. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)**

 **Twitter: Prof_McGonagal**

 **Chapter 9: The First Week**

" _You know what?" she began, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. "I've tried to put things right, but clearly it's not going to happen. I'm not going to explain myself to you. If you two don't trust me anymore, or you don't want to be my friend anymore, or whatever, because of my being Sorted into Slytherin, then that's fine. You don't have to trust me. We don't have to be friends. Have nice lives, both of you, and I'll see you around."_

 _Stepping forwards, she strode around Lisa and joined the crowd of students crowding around the doors and leaving the Great Hall. Neither Terry nor Lisa made any effort to call her back, or voice a response._

 _A lump rose in her throat and tears stung behind her eyes as she strode across the Entrance Hall, but Rachel ignored the lump resolutely; wiping her eyes angrily and pushing her glasses back up as they slid down her nose. It was unpleasant, yes- ending her friendship with the two people she was closest to outside her family; but clearly, their lives had changed. Everything was different now._

 _And one way or another, she was going to find a way to make things work._

By the time Rachel found Classroom 72, the rest of the first year Slytherins were already sitting inside the room, looking around them slightly nervously. She lingered at the door for a moment, wondering if she was late, but though the teacher's desk was covered in piles of parchment and open textbooks there was no teacher in the room. Rather hesitantly, she entered.

"Any sign of a Professor out there?" Theodore Nott asked her as she sat down in the empty seat beside Millicent Bulstrode.

"No." Rachel answered, shaking her head.

"Does anyone actually know who teaches this class?" Draco Malfoy asked impatiently, his nose wrinkling as a bell sounded around the castle and still, no Professor appeared.

"My cousin told me it's a ghost," Pansy Parkinson said.

"Good morning everyone." The first years jumped as a dull, monotone voice filled the classroom and an ancient and rather shrivelled looking ghost with small, thick round glasses floated into the classroom through the blackboard and sat down behind the teacher's desk as the sound of the bell faded away.

"I'm Professor Cuthbert Binns, your History of Magic Professor. And yes, before you point it out, I am a ghost; and before you ask, I died in 1934 at a very old age after falling asleep in the staffroom here in the castle, but rest assured, my death has not affected by ability to teach. First we must take the register…" he looked down at the topmost of the sheets of parchment on the right hand side of his desk and cleared his throat. "Rachel Belby."

"Um- here, sir," Rachel raised her hand.

"Millicent Bulstrode."

"Here, sir." Millicent did the same.

"Vincent Crabbe…"

Once he had taken the register, Professor Binns straightened his glasses and surveyed the Slytherins. "Now, if you will take out your parchment, quills and ink we will commence your education." He waited for the first years to follow his instructions before looking down at the sheets of parchment in his desk and continuing:

"Today you will be learning about the Soap Blizzard of 1378. As the name suggests, in 1378 a blizzard composed entirely of soap plagued Great Britain…"

It should have been interesting- a blizzard, never mind a soap blizzard, was hardly a common occurrence after all. But there was something in the monotonousness of Professor Binns' voice that made it impossible to concentrate on what he was saying.

Rachel, for her part, tried to pay attention, but she found herself struggling to take notes more and more the longer Professor Binns talked; and, resolving to learn as much as she could from the textbook, she rested her chin on her palm and joined the rest of the Slytherins in lounging in their chairs, half-dozing, half-staring glazed-eyed at the blackboard on the opposite wall; or, in Pansy Parkinson's case, drawing a pair of dress robes on her parchment; actions that did not seem to bother Professor Binns, for he droned on and on without pausing for a minute.

" _ **GOT YOUR CONK!"**_

A loud screech seared through the air suddenly from the corridor outside. The first years jumped- the front legs of Zabini and Theodore Nott's respective chairs crashed to the ground as they jumped forwards; Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle looked around them wildly; Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis gasped; Pansy Parkinson's quill skidded across her parchment; Rachel's chin slipped from the palm of her hand and she winced as the end of her chin smacked onto the edge of the desktop, bring her painfully back to reality; Millicent Bulstrode's nose did the same not long after. Ignoring the sniggers from Nott and Zabini in the row behind them, the girls exchanged rueful smiles and tried, once again, to pay attention. Professor Binns, for his part, hadn't even looked up from the notes on his desk at the screech, never mind during the first years' reactions, and as the screech faded away, he continued to drone on in the same monotonous voice as ever; Rachel glanced up at the clock on the wall at the front of the classroom, groaning inwardly as she saw they still had another forty-five minutes to go. Professor Binns continued his speech and soon enough, the girls gave up their attempt to pay attention and sank, once again, into a glazed-eyed stupor like the boys, and it was there they remained until the end of the lesson.

"I don't know if I can go through that again," Pansy said, stifling a yawn as the Slytherins made their way to Defence Against the Dark Arts, having acquired directions from Professor Binns.

"Neither do I." Rachel agreed, rubbing her eyes behind her glasses to rid them of tiredness. She caught sight of the girls in her dormitory looking at her slightly oddly, but Draco Malfoy spoke before she could.

"If death really hasn't affected his teaching then Binns should have retired years ago." He complained.

"Or been asked to leave." Theodore Nott agreed. "On the bright side, though, Defence Against the Dark Arts is bound to be an improvement."

"True."

A few minutes later, the first year Slytherins found the entrance to the North Tower, wherein, or so they were told, was Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. The first year Ravenclaws were just leaving as they arrived, and a rather awkward moment followed wherein the Slytherins were forced to draw back to let not only the first year Ravenclaws, but other students from other years pass as well. Rachel spotted Terry and Lisa were at the back of the group of Ravenclaws. They looked away when they saw her; Rachel did the same, surprising herself when she realised she felt slightly more anger at their attitudes than sadness at the loss of their friendship.

"Aren't you friends with those two?" Millicent asked Rachel, raising her eyebrows after the Ravenclaws as they vanished from sight.

"I was." Rachel answered, nodding as the Slytherins entered the tower and continued on their way to the classroom. "But not anymore."

Millicent opened her mouth to reply, but before she could do so, the Slytherins reached classroom 107, where they had been told they would have Defence Against the Dark Arts.

The very nervous looking man in a large purple turban who had sat beside Professor Snape in the Great Hall was standing outside the door, waiting for them.

"G-Good morning s-students." He said, and there was a very pronounced stutter to his voice. "I'm P-P-Professor Quirrell, y-your Defence A-Against the D-Dark Arts t-t-teacher. Come in, p-please and t-take your s-seats."

The first years filed past Professor Quirrell, exchanging glances as they noticed a funny smell coming from his turban. Rachel wrinkled her nose, gaggling slightly as she crossed the threshold into the classroom and another unusual smell reached her; the classroom smelled very strongly of garlic.

"What in Merlin's name has gone on in here?" Pansy muttered out of the corner of her mouth. Rachel shrugged, wondering the same thing herself.

Professor Quirrell walked to the front of the classroom as the first years took their seats. He straightened his turban as he turned to face the class, smiling nervously upon catching them looking at it rather curiously.

"A p-prince from A-Africa g-gifted this t-t-to me a-after I g-got rid of a t-t-t-troublesome z-zombie f-for him." He said.

Zabini coughed loudly. Rachel resisted the urge to raise her eyebrows- Professor Quirrell didn't look as though he'd have much luck getting rid of a moth, never mind a zombie.

"How did you do it, sir?" Theodore Nott asked as Zabini looked emotionlessly back at Quirrell, who was regarding him with great suspicion, as though wondering if he had been laughing; which Rachel rather thought he had been.

Professor Quirrell turned slightly pink at Theodore Nott's question. "That- t-that is a s-s-story for another t-t-time." He said, glancing around him, clearly searching for a change of subject. "Oh, w-w-would you l-look at that- l-l-looks like it m-might r-r-rain. N-mow, we r-really s-s-should be g-getting on w-w-with the l-l-l-lesson- I'll j-just t-t-take the r-r-r-register…"

"I swear to Merlin the standard of Professors in this place better improve or I'm writing to my father." Draco Malfoy said as the Slytherins made their way to lunch an hour later. "He's on the board of governors, you know- he'll have the board tidy the staff up in no time," he smirked. "No more ghosts, no more infernal stutterings, and I bet he'll even get rid of the undoubtedly overwhelming amount of Mudbloods as-"

"There's nothing wrong with _Muggleborns_ , Malfoy," Millicent Bulstrode interrupted sharply. Draco Malfoy stopped walking, turning around and staring at her incredulously.

"What?" he asked, as Millicent and the rest of the first year Slytherins stopped, too, the latter looking between Millicent and Malfoy.

"You can complain about the staff all you like," Millicent snapped, "but my grandmother on my mother's was a Muggleborn and she was Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team from her third year to her seventh, _and_ shescored one hundred and nine percent in all her Charms exams, _and_ she married my _pure-blood_ grandfather, and she has gone on to become, I think you'll find, the chief editor of all seven of the _Standard Book of Spells_ textbooks. So, as much as you might not like it, being a Muggleborn doesn't make anyone less deserving of a place here." She folded her arms as she spoke, glaring at Malfoy threateningly, as though daring him to contradict her. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle looked as though they wanted to defend Malfoy from Millicent, but weren't exactly sure how.

An angry pink tinge rose Malfoy's cheeks, but he did not push the subject, instead stalking ahead, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle at his heels. Millicent watched after him, a satisfied expression on her face.

"Shall we keep moving then?" she asked with a smile after a moment, looking around at her fellow first years.

"I rather think so, yes," Pansy Parkinson smiled back, and it was on that note that the rest of the first year Slytherins continued down the corridor, putting the conflict behind them.

As the week went by, Rachel found herself settling into life at Hogwarts. Though unlike some of her classmates, she did not really take to any particular subject, she found she enjoyed most of her classes.

Charms was taught by the tiny little wizard, Professor Flitwick, who had to stand upon a pile of books to see over the top of his desk, and smiled kindly at Rachel upon reading out her surname while taking the register and beamed in delight when he realised who Millicent's grandmother was. His enthusiasm did not waver throughout the lesson, wherein they begun reading the chapter on basic wand movements in _The Standard Book of Spells Grade 1._

Herbology was held in the greenhouses outside the castle; with the squat, plump witch with wavy grey hair, a patched hat and a kind smile, who had handed out timetables to the Hufflepuffs on the first day of term, Professor Sprout, who turned out to be the head of Hufflepuff house. In Herbology, they learned to care for the Wizarding World's fungi and plants, something Millicent Bulstrode and Gregory Goyle excelled at from word go. The Slytherins were timetabled to have Herbology three times a week; they shared the class with the Ravenclaws, something that was not particularly pleasant for Rachel, for her temper sparked with injustice and her stomach panged with disappointment; but after the first lesson she rather thought she would find it easier and easier to get over the emotions she felt at the ending of her friendship with Terry and Lisa, who, as far as she could tell felt no sorrow, with every lesson.

The Slytherins had Astronomy on a Tuesday night at midnight, where they used their telescopes to study the night skies and leant the names of the various stars and the different ways in which the planets moved around.

History of Magic remained as boring as ever in the Slytherins' next lesson, and Rachel found herself listening only far enough to make a note of the topic being discussed before she gave in to temptation and stared half-unseeingly, half-desperately at the clock on the wall, waiting for the lesson to end.

Defence Against the Dark Arts, in contrast, went up slightly in the first year Slytherin's estimation over their next two lessons. The classroom still smelled very strong of garlic- the reason for this, or so Sebastian Parkinson informed the first years, was to ward off a vampire Quirrell had met on his travels in Romania during the sabbatical he had went on the previous year, who he was terrified was going to come after him one way; Quirrell's turban, too, according to Sebastian, smelled the way it did because it was stuffed with garlic so Quirrell was sufficiently protected at all times - but once the first years got used to his stutter, the Slytherins found that he knew rather a lot about defensive magic, though he was clearly more of a scholar than a duellist, for even the first years could see the spells he demonstrated were rather weak in power.

Transfiguration was taught by Professor McGonagall, who proved to be as stern as Rachel had first thought her to be, if not more so. So strict and intelligent was the Professor, in fact, that she gave the Slytherins a very firm talking-to mere moments after she had taken the register in their very first lesson.

"Transfiguration is one of the most precarious and complicated types of magic you will learn while here at Hogwarts." She began, looking sternly around the classroom at the Slytherins. "Anyone who decides to mess about in my classes will leave and will not return. Consider this your first and last warning."

Then she had taken out her wand, and Transfigured her desk into a simply enormous pig and then back again. This impressed the Slytherins a great deal, and though they were disappointed to learn that they would not be learning such advanced magic as that until they were older, it was still in great anticipation that they scribbled down a series of very complicated notes and then, under Professor McGonagall's instruction, set about trying to turn a match into a needle.

This proved to be easier said than done. Try as she might, Rachel simply couldn't get her match to change in any way, shape or form whatsoever. She was not the only one struggling- Pansy Parkinson looked on the verge of giving up after her fifteenth attempt.

"This is impossible!" she complained under her breath, waving her wand over the match so vigorously the match rolled around on her desk.

"No it isn't, Miss Parkinson," Professor McGonagall said, walking past the desk. "Just concentr-"

 _ **BANG!**_

" _Merlino!"_ Zabini yelled, pushing his chair away from his desk as his match exploded. He stared at the scorch marks left on the desk and the pile of ash that was what was left of his match; and the expression on his face was so uncharacteristically animated and alarmed that it was highly comical. Rachel ducked her head, fighting to stop her shoulders shaking and conceal her laughter, feeling it would be rather rude to laugh out loud at someone else's misfortune, even if it was someone she didn't like very much. Pansy elbowed her reprovingly, though she looked, like the rest of the class, rather amused herself; Rachel nodded, fighting to compose herself as the rest of the class managed to do so.

Theodore Nott, however- who had no qualms about politeness in this case, at least- positively roared with laughter.

"Y-your face!" he gasped, pointing at Zabini. Zabini glared at him, his gaze falling on Rachel as McGonagall issued him another match; such was the position of their seats that the two students could see each other past McGonagall's right side. Their gazes met just as Rachel managed to get a lid on her amusement by biting the inside of her cheek, which, unfortunately, made it look a little as though she was still laughing. Zabini's glare intensified as they looked at each other, and- admittedly rather childishly- her annoyed by this misunderstood injustice by her prior dislike of Zabini, Rachel glared back at him; something that evidently did not escape the notice of Professor McGonagall, for she cleared her throat sharply.

"Back to work, everyone." She said sternly, sweeping off to the front of the classroom. Zabini gave Rachel one last glare and returned to his work; Rachel returned the glare in full on principle and returned to her own work, which remained entirely unsuccessful. By the end of the lesson, Zabini had blown up another match and Theodore Nott and Daphne Greengrass had turned their matches into solid silver, something that earned them a point each for Slytherin and a rare smile from Professor McGonagall.

As well as enjoying her classes, Rachel found herself slowly getting used to to both the idea and reality of being in Slytherin. She added a note to her plan to become Minister for Magic that she had been Sorted into Slytherin as opposed to Ravenclaw, and reconfirmed to herself that her plan could work for both Houses, as she had thought during her talk with the portrait of Merlin in the common room. She got to know the other girls in her dormitory better and found that both Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode were big fans of the Weird Sisters, too and that Pansy was indeed a relative of Perseus Parkinson, the Minister for Magic; and while Millicent was an only child, Pansy had a nineteen-year-old sister, Eliza, who was training to be a teacher at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic in France after teaching herself French- something, Pansy said with a roll of her eyes, her parents were very proud of. The three girls got along rather well, and as the week went by, Pansy and Millicent's duo became a trio.

Rachel learnt, too, that Daphne Greengrass had a younger sister and aspired to be a billionaire and Tracey Davis had been brewing Potions since she could stand. She also borrowed Tracey Davis's copy of her Uncle Damocles' biography- titled _The Liberator of Lycanthropes: The Biography of Damocles Belby_ by Arsenius Jigger- and started to read it; learning that her Uncle lived in France with his fiancée, a woman called Adeline Lefevre, and had developed the Wolfsbane Potion, which Werewolves used to relieve the effects of their Lycanthrope over the full moon. Rachel did, too, get to know the other first year Slytherins, though not as well as she did the girls in her dormitory. She learnt that Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were treated more as lackeys than friends by Draco Malfoy, to the extent that he did not even refer to them by their first names, only their surnames, but they did not seem to mind very much; Draco, she learnt, was very proud of being a Malfoy, something that perhaps contributed to his dislike of Muggleborns, though Rachel rather thought that if he made any derogatory comments he was doing in in the boys dormitories, or other places where he was out of earshot of Millicent. She learnt, too, that Theodore Nott greatly favoured being called 'Theo' over 'Theodore', feeling that the latter made him feel like his father, but Rachel couldn't help but think of him as 'Nott', due to to his affiliation with Zabini- who rarely, if ever, participated in the first years' conversations, instead sitting in an indifferent silence, and remained, in Rachel opinion at least, a thoroughly unpleasant and haughty git.

But despite her enjoyment of her classes and getting to know of most of her fellow first year Slytherins, there was one thing Rachel did not manage to do, no matter how hard she tried: write to her parents and tell them of her Sorting. She had sat down with her fellow Slytherins on Monday evening with the intention of following her brother's advice and writing to her parents straight away, but the image of what she imagined her family's expressions to be when they found out she wasn't in Ravenclaw filed her mind and Rachel found that she simply couldn't figure out what to say, much to the bewilderment of Pansy and Millicent, even a little after Rachel explained her family's Ravenclaw proud. She lay in bed late at night, drafting different sentences in her leather bound notebook, aided by the faint greenish light of the moon and stars sinking beneath the surface of the Black Lake. She also wrote diary entries about her Sorting, her thoughts and discoveries about her fellow Slytherins- largely favourable in the cases of everyone except Zabini, and Malfoy for his bigotry- as well as the ending of her friendship with Terry and Lisa, her gratefulness that Marcus chose to stick by her, and her fears that she would not be accepted by her family when they did discover her House. She wrote down everything, wanting to clear her head in the hopes of writing her letter and these jottings soon became highly personal in nature, and Rachel was careful to tuck her book away in the bottom of her trunk every night before she went to sleep to keep them private.

But though her writings did serve their purpose in clearing her head, Rachel's stomach still transformed into a pit of snakes when she thought of her family's expressions when they found out she wasn't in Ravenclaw, and despite all her drafted sentences she found it impossible to get beyond _'Dear Mum and Dad'_ in her letter writing.

She managed to keep this fact from Marcus until the end of the week; lying when he asked her on Wednesday morning whether she had written and quickly informing him about what she had learned about their Uncle from his biography and the news that she was no longer friends with Terry and Lisa; Marcus had been sufficiently surprised by the former news and sympathetic about the latter that he had dropped the matter of letter-writing, much to Rachel's relief. On Friday morning at breakfast, however, he approached the Slytherin table after the post had been delivered, a letter in his hand, and asked to speak to Rachel alone.

"What the hell, Rachel?!" he demanded, turning to face her when they reached the spot they had conversed at on the first day of term, a way between the end of the Slytherin table and the width of the staff table. "You said you'd written to write to Mum and Dad on Wednesday morning- and Mum's just written to me asking why you haven't written and is everything all right?" he waved the letter around pointedly. "I told you I didn't want to be involved in telling Mum and Dad about your Sorting, but now I've been dragged into it!"

"Well, I'm sorry to have inconvenienced you." Rachel retorted sarcastically. "And I meant to write- I've been trying! It's just hard, every time I try I keep seeing everyone's faces when they find out and it's just impossible!"

"They're going to find out eventually, though aren't they?" Marcus raised his eyebrows, folding his arms, the letter now scrunched up in his fist. "And regardless of how difficult it is, you're going to have to write now aren't you, to stop Mum and Dad storming up here to find out what's happened."

Rachel shuddered at the thought. "Yeah; yeah you're right." She agreed. "I'll do it tonight; and I'll put in a bit so you don't have to write back to Mum and actually get involved. I promise." She added as Marcus opened his mouth sceptically.

"Fine- but make sure you do." Marcus said, clearing deciding to give her the benefit of the doubt for now. "See you later."

"See you." Rachel replied, returning to the Slytherin table, sitting down opposite Pansy and Millicent.

"Catch you out, did he?" Pansy asked, grimacing sympathetically.

"Yep." Rachel nodded, adding some syrup to her pancakes.

"I still don't understand why you just don't tell them," Millicent said, taking a sip of pumpkin juice and turning to the last page in her copy of the _Daily Prophet_ that had arrived with the post and skimming over it. "I mean, surely they respect the Sorting Hat like everyone else does."

"I think so- but It's like I told you on Monday," Rachel said, pushing her glasses up her nose. "My family's very house proud; they're not very likely to react well when they find out I'm not in Ravenclaw."

"Because all Slytherins are allegedly Dark wizards?" Millicent asked, rolling her eyes.

"It's not that." Rachel shook her head. "I mean, that may be a part of it, but one of my relatives was in Gryffindor two hundred and fifty years ago and they weren't accepted by my family. The short and short of it is that you're in Ravenclaw or you're nothing with them."

"Yikes." Pansy raised her eyebrows, sipping her pumpkin juice.

"Yeah," Rachel replied awkwardly, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Anything interesting in the paper?" she asked Millicent, wanting to change the subject.

"Not really," Millicent answered, pushing _the Daily Prophet_ into the middle of the table so they could all read it and pointing to an article. "The only interesting thing is that they haven't found out who tried to rob Gringotts in the summer; look."

Pansy and Rachel looked at the article she was indicating, Rachel craning her neck slightly to read it:

 _ **GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST**_

 _ **Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown.**_

 _ **Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.**_

 _ **"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon."**_

"That's mental," Pansy shook her head. "You think they would have got at least one lead by now."

"Yeah," Rachel nodded her agreement. "What have we got first today d'you know?" she asked, the thought occurring to her as some third years passed them, leaving the hall.

"Er, double Potions; with the Gryffindors." Millicent answered, glancing at her timetable as she folded up the news paper and put it in her bag. "Which should be interesting."

Potions lessons occurred in the dungeons, as Gemma Farley had told the Slytherins on their first night. Thanks to their steadily growing knowledge of the dungeons, the Slytherins were already standing outside the classroom when the first year Gryffindors arrived- the bushy haired girl, Hermione Granger; the boy who had kept losing his toad, Neville Longbottom; the Weasley boy- Ronald, Rachel remembered; and the famous Harry Potter amongst them. Up close, Harry Potter was rather smaller and scrawnier than he had appeared in the Great Hall, though there was a healthy colour to his cheeks that looked oddly out of place. The Gryffindors had scarcely paused in the corridor before the bell sounded through the castle and the bat-like Professor Snape pushed open the dungeon door and gestured that they enter classroom.

Though by now Rachel was rather used to the difference in temperate between the dungeons and the main school, she couldn't help but shiver slightly when she and the rest of the class entered the dungeon classroom. But whether it was from the renewed cold or the various preserved animals that were floating around inside glass jars around the dungeon walls she couldn't work out as she and the rest of the Slytherins took possession of one side of the dungeon, and the Gryffindors the other.

Professor Snape started the class by taking the register, but towards the end he paused slightly, his gaze fixed on a name on the parchment.

"Oh, yes." he said quietly, "Harry Potter; Hogwarts' new… celebrity."

Draco, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle covered their mouths with their hands, sniggering. Professor Snape finished taking the register and looked up from the parchment at the class. His eyes were black, cold and empty like dark tunnels.

"All of you are present to study the refined science and precise art of potion making," he said; and though his tone barely rose above a whisper, the first years heard his every word. Clearly like Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape had the ability to keep a class silent without exertion.

"As there is rarely any thoughtless wand-waving here, several of you will scarcely consider this magic. I do not think you will genuinely comprehend the splendor of the gently simmering cauldron with its glistening fumes, nor the soft influence of fluids that slip through every humans' veins, enchanting the mind, entrapping the senses. I can show you ways to bottle fame, formulate glory, and even put a stop to death- if you are not as big a cluster of dunderheads as those I customarily are forced to teach."

Further silence followed Professor Snape's words. Rachel exchanged glances with Pansy and Millicent, not quite sure what to think. Across the classroom, Hermione Granger moved to edge of her seat, looking anxious to prove that she was not a dunderhead.

"Harry Potter!" Snape said suddenly. "What could I develop if I were to combine an infusion of wormwood with powdered root of asphodel?"

"The Draught of Living Death." Tracey muttered under her breath.

Harry Potter, however, glanced at Ronald Weasley boy beside him, looking baffled. Hermione Granger's hand, however, flew into the air.

"I don't know, Professor," Potter replied.

Professor Snape sneered at him.

"Tut-tut," he said. "Evidently, fame is not everything."

He took no notice of Hermione Granger's hand, which was still raised.

"Let us try again shall we, Potter- whereabouts would you search if I instructed you to fetch me a bezoar?"

"Stomach of a goat." Tracey muttered as Hermione Granger raised her hand as high as she could short of getting up from her seat. Harry Potter, however, didn't look as though he had any idea at all. In the row in front of Rachel, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were shaking with silent laughter.

"I don't know, Professor." Potter repeated.

"Didn't think you'd need to open a book before you got here, did you, Potter?" Professor Snape asked. Rachel frowned slightly, wondering why he seemed to dislike Potter so much.

Potter, for his part, said nothing, looking back into Snape's cold dark eyes. Snape continued to ignore Hermione Granger's slightly quivering hand.

"What differentiates Wolfsbane and monkshood, Potter?"

"They're the same plant." Tracey Davis muttered.

Hermione Granger got to her feet at Snape's words, her hand stretching higher towards the ceiling of the dungeon.

"I don't know, Professor," Potter answered quietly. "I reckon Hermione probably does, though, so why don't you ask her?"

Some of the class laughed; a sandy-haired Gryffindor boy winked at Potter. Professor Snape, however, was not pleased.

"Take your seat," he snapped to Hermione Granger. "Well, Potter- asphodel and wormwood create a sleeping potion so formidable that it is referred to as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone that is removed from the stomach of a goat and will counteract the effects of most poisons. As for Wolfsbane and monkshood, they are both the same plant, which can also be referred to as aconite." He looked around at the rest of the class as he spoke, raising his eyebrows. "Well- Why aren't all of you writing this down?"

The class quickly rummaged for their parchment, quills and ink. Over the coinciding noise, Snape called, "And one point will be taken away from Gryffindor House curtesy of your attitude, Potter."

Some ten minutes later, Professor Snape divided them all into pairs and instructed them to brew an allegedly potion supposed to cure boils using instructions from the blackboard. He swept around the classroom, his long, thick black cloak billowing out behind him, watching them all as they weighed clumps of dried nettles and crush up snake fangs in mortars, criticizing virtually everyone but Draco Malfoy, who was, Rachel remembered, his godson.

"Er… I don't know if this is right," Millicent murmured to Rachel, peering into Rachel's cauldron. "This is black and according to the board it's supposed to be dark blue."

Rachel pushed her glasses up her nose and looked across the classroom at the blackboard. "…Maybe we should add a few more snake fangs?" she suggested uncertainly, picking up their mortar and tipping a little more of the crushed snake fangs into the cauldron. The potion within hissed slightly and turned fluorescent orange. "Or not." Rachel muttered, stumped.

A loud, derisive snicker sounded behind her, and both Rachel and Millicent turned around to see Zabini smirking at their cauldron. The contents of the cauldron he shared with Nott, was, annoyingly, a perfect dark blue.

"Can we help you?" Rachel asked coolly, raising an eyebrow at him. Zabini opened his mouth to reply, but before he could do so, Snape's voice sounded through the dungeon.

"Everyone," he called, and Rachel and Millicent turned to see him standing by the cauldron shared by Draco and Pansy. Draco was looking smug, but Pansy's expression soured considerably as Snape went on, "note the way Draco has stewed these horned slugs perfectly-"

He broke off abruptly, stepping back as all at once, great clouds of acid-green smoke and a loud, angry hissing noise echoed around the dungeon.

Looking around to search for the source, Rachel and Millicent saw that Neville Longbottom had somehow melted his partner's cauldron into a great twisted blob, and the potion that was once inside it was now oozing across the stone dungeon floor, burning large holes in people's shoes. Alarmed, Rachel and Millicent joined the rest of the class in scrambling to stand up on their stools while Neville Longbottom, who had unfortunately been soaked in the potion when the cauldron had been warped, groaned in agony as large furious red boils leapt up and covered the skin of his arms and legs.

"You idiotic boy!" Snape snarled, making the spilled potion disappear with a quick wave of his wand. "I presume you put in the porcupine quills before you took the cauldron off the flame?"

Neville could only whimper in response as boils sprung up all over his nose and face.

"Take him to Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing- a portrait will give you directions," Snape snapped at Neville's partner, the sandy-haired boy. Then he rounded on Harry Potter and the Weasley boy, who had been working on the table next to Neville.

"Potter, why didn't you say something to Longbottom about not adding the quills? Did you think that he would make you look good when he got it wrong? Well you've just lost another point for Gryffindor."

Potter opened his mouth as though to argue, but stooped himself as Ronald Weasley said something to him in an undertone. The rest of the lesson passed on stools, in silence, and in total failure for Rachel and Millicent, for neither of them could figure out how to fix their neon orange potion. Rachel considered the only upside to be that Zabini went back to his own work and left them alone.

Pansy, on the other hand, did not feel as though the lesson had any upsides at all.

"I brewed those horned slugs!" she exclaimed indignantly as she, Millicent and Rachel made their way through the dungeons at the end of the lesson. "I picked them up and cut them into pieces and stirred them into the cauldron and Snape gave all the credit to Malfoy!"

"Why didn't you say anything then?" Millicent asked as the girls climbed the steps to the Entrance Hall.

"I was going to, but then that cauldron melted!" Pansy twisted her hair up into a ponytail, disgruntled.

Rachel grimaced sympathetically. "Well, at least there's a small bright side," she said with a small smile. "You know your work was perfect."

Pansy grinned faintly at the thought. "That it was," she agreed, linking arms with her friends as the three girls crossed the Entrance Hall to the Great Hall for lunch.

Late that night, Rachel sat at a table in a shadowy corner of the common room, trying disparately to fulfil her promise to Marcus and write a letter to her parents. She stared down at the parchment in front of her trying her best to think of the right thing to follow, _'Dear Mum and Dad.'_

Rachel leant back in her chair and rubbed her tired eyes behind her glasses, looking around the common room for inspiration. But such was the lateness of the hour that the common room was quite deserted, and when no brilliant way of composing her letter came to her mind, Rachel decided to try a simpler approach.

 _Creeaakk…_

The sound of a door being slowly pushed open echoed around the common room as Rachel set her quill to her parchment and she paused, looking up. Her eyebrows rose in surprise as Blaise Zabini slipped out of the doors to the boys' dormitory. Rachel leant back deeper into the shadows behind her as Zabini looked carefully around the common room; and she watched curiously despite herself as he strode quickly and quietly across the common room and passed through the door in the wall, having not seen her.

Rachel stared after him, baffled. It was well outside curfew, and the middle of the night come to that, and though she didn't like Zabini at all, she couldn't help but wonder where he was going at this hour. She hesitated for a moment, then curiosity got the better of her and she put down her quill, got to her feet and darted across the common room after him.

She glimpsed Zabini turning right at the end of the second corridor way from the common room when she reached the entrance and hurried after him, making her footsteps as soundless as she could, making sure to keep at least a corridor between them at all times, her curiosity mounting with every passing second…

Zabini was, Rachel realised after a few moments, heading towards the stone staircase to the Entrance Hall. She lingered at the end of the corridor that led up the stairs, giving Zabini time to reach the top of the stairs, look around, and enter the Entrance Hall, before hurrying up the stairs herself.

Her eyebrows rose considerably when she saw Zabini walking up the Grand Staircase to the upper floors of the castle; she waited a few moments, until he had vanished up onto the first floor corridor, before following. But she was scarcely halfway across the Entrance Hall before she heard footsteps heading towards the Entrance Hall from the Grand Staircase, a voice preceding it.

"I don't know, my sweet, where-"

"GOT YOUR CONK FILCHIE!"

" _PEEVES!"_

Rachel froze, registering the sound of Peeves, Mr Filch and, by deduction, Mrs Norris. She had heard stories about them all from Marcus over the summer holidays; and glimpsed them throughout the week. Peeves was the school's Poltergeist, and would direct people to sealed doors and trick staircases if they were late for lessons; wrench carpets from under people's feet; dump wastepaper bins on people's heads; throw pieces of chalk at people unrelentingly, or creep up behind people while invisible, grab their noses, and screech loudly, "GOT YOUR CONK!", something Rachel realised he had done on the first day of term.

Then there was the caretaker, Argus Filch, who was apparently a very nasty tempered vindictive man and his cat, Mrs Norris. Rachel had seen the two of them about herself- Mrs Norris was a gaunt, dust-colored animal with protruding, lamp-like eyes which apparently identical to Filch's. She watched the corridors by herself, and it was that if she saw a rule being even slightly broken she would sprint off for Filch, who would arrive, wheezing, just two seconds later- something Rachel had seen from a distance when two fifth year boys had got into a fight in the Charms corridor on Wednesday. Marcus had said that Filch's knowledge of the school's secret passages was better than anyone's, with the exception of the Weasley twins; and that he could arrive as unexpectedly as any one of the school ghosts. He was hated universally by the students, and it was the greatest desire of many to give Mrs Norris a big kick; and right now all three of them were standing very near Rachel, who was away from the common room outside curfew.

Panicked, Rachel turned on her heel and fled, running as hard and fast as she could back across the Entrance Hall and down into the dungeons. Only once she was back in the common room, sitting where she had left her things and unapprehended, did Rachel relax, straighten her glasses and allow time for her breathing to even out. Recovered and content in the knowledge that she had not been caught, Rachel pulled her go-to black headband from her head and smoothed her hair down, before pushing her headband back into place, reordering her mind as she did so.

There was no way she would be able to find out where Zabini had gone now- evidently, he had managed to avoid Filch, Mrs Norris and Peeves- and not finding out was rather disappointing, but Rachel had more pressing matters to deal with and a promise to keep. Her tiredness forgotten in her previous exertion, Rachel picked up her quill and set it once more to her parchment.

It was time she wrote to her parents.

 **A/N: Please review! :)**


	10. Chapter 10: Letters and Symbols

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else that may be referenced in this chapter. The** _ **bold, italic, underline text**_ **is a direct quote from the Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone book.**

 **A/N: Huge thank you to you all. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)**

 **Twitter: Prof_McGonagal**

 **Chapter 10: Letters and Symbols**

 _Dear Mum and Dad,_

 _How are you? Marcus told me that you'd written to him because I hadn't written to you yet, but everything's fine, so there's no need to worry. Sorry I haven't written before now, but I've been trying to get settled in here. It's been a bit more of an adjustment than I thought it would be, because I've been Sorted into Slytherin. The Sorting Hat was really very certain about it, and that's been a bit of a shock. I'm okay now, though- Potions is a bit iffy, but I like the rest of my classes and I've made friends with the girls in my dormitory._

 _I know this might be a bit of a surprise for you, as it was for me, but I'm still the same person I've always been._

 _Hope everyone's well; I'm looking forwards to seeing you at Christmas._

 _Love, Rachel xx_

That, Rachel thought, reading over her finished letter the following morning, was as good as it was going to get. It was not the best letter by any means, and she had deliberated for ages over adding the reminder that she was indeed the same person she'd always been, but put it in in the hopes that it would remind her parents of the fact, what with whatever else they may feel when they found out about her Sorting.

"Did you do it, then, Rachel?" Pansy asked, looking at the the girl through her mirror as she brushed her hair.

"Yeah." Rachel nodded, resting the letter against the post of her bed and addressing it to her parents. "It's as good as it's going to get, anyway. Can you remember where the Owlery is?" she asked, straightening her headband and stuffing the letter into the pocket of her jeans.

"Er- no, not exactly," Pansy said, getting to her feet as she finished brushing her hair. "But I'm sure we'll find it."

"…I think it's this way." Millicent paused, pointing straight ahead as she, Pansy and Rachel reached a three-way fork in the third floor corridor. It was a short while later; the corridors were unusually empty, courtesy of it being a Saturday morning, and Rachel, Millicent and Pansy were trying to remember the way to the Owlery; Daphne and Tracey had politely declined the offer to come, too. The Slytherin girls had only been to the Owlery once before, on Tuesday afternoon, when Pansy, Millicent, Daphne and Tracy had sent letters to their respective parents. Not wanting to be alone, Rachel had gone with them.

"Are you sure?" Rachel frowned, thinking back to the walk they had taken. "The Owlery's in the West Tower… did we even come down this corridor?"

"You lost, firsties?" an unfamiliar voice called from behind them and the three girls turned. A wiry boy with thick blonde hair, startlingly bright blue eyes and lightly tanned skin was walking towards them, smiling. "You're a part of the new crop of Slytherins right?"

"Yeah," Millicent nodded cautiously. "Who're you?"

"Thought so." The boy nodded, stopping in front of the girls. "Oh- I'm Terence Higgs; I'm in Slytherin, too- in second year." He held out his hand.

"Millicent Bulstrode." Millicent answered, shaking it.

"Pansy Parkinson." Pansy did the same.

"Sebastian's cousin." Terence said; Pansy nodded. "He Transfigured my head into a pumpkin on the train- only just got rid of the last of the orange. And you?" he asked, turning to Rachel.

"Rachel Belby." She said, shaking his hand.

"Marcus Belby's sister, right?" he asked.

"Yeah." She nodded.

"Thought so, too- so, where're you looking for?" Terence asked.

"The Owlery." Pansy replied. "We went there the other day but now we can't remember how to get there."

"Oh, well, I'm heading there myself," Terence said, pulling a letter from the pocket of his jeans. "I'll show you the way, if you like."

The three girls exchanged glances and nodded.

"Thank you." Rachel said with a smile. "We're still trying to work our way around, but it's harder than it seems."

"I reckon you're doing a great job." Terence said, smiling back. "We turned left here," he went on, continuing as they turned down the corridor to their left and walked along it: "Honestly, it'd be strange if you knew your way round her right off the bat. This place is great, but it's mental. There're a hundred and forty-two staircases here of all different kinds, as you've probably seen. There're big, wide, fancy ones; the narrow, unsteady ones; some that lead somewhere new on Fridays; some with a vanishing steps midway up that you've got to learn to jump over. Then there are the doors that won't open unless they're asked politely, or tickled in the correct place, and then you've got the doors that're really just solid walls having a laugh. It's actually a bit difficult to remember where anything is, because, you know, the staircases move about and the portraits wander here and there on a whim and there's a conspiracy going around that the suits of armor can walk, so getting stuck at a fork in the third floor is nothing."

By now they had turned left again three times, walked along several corridors and climbed a flight of stairs to the fourth floor corridor; moments later, they reached the door that was the entrance to the tower that housed the Owlery.

"Here we are." Terence said, opening the door with a flourish. "After you," he said to the girls, stepping back to let them pass first.

"Thank you." The girls said; Pansy leading the way up the winding staircase to the Owlery at the top of the tower.

The Owlery was composed of a large, stone room, filled with stone perches and glasses windows that rose all the way to the very top of the tower. The room was rather draughty and cold, courtesy of the glassless windows and the stone floor was completely covered in, owl droppings, straw, and, rather disgustingly, the regurgitated skeletons of voles and mice. The perches that filled the walls were filled with owls, and Rachel looked around for Artemisia as she, Pansy, Millicent and then Terence, too, entered the room.

"Hey, A," She called, catching sight of her owl sitting on a perch about halfway up the wall. "I have a letter for you."

Artemisia hooted softly in response, stretching out her wings and flying down to land on Rachel's shoulder. Despite her knowing she had to send the letter, Rachel felt a wave of nerves as Artemisia landed on her shoulder and she reached into the pocket of her jeans for her letter. She bit the inside of her lip slightly as she pulled the letter from her pocket and stared down at it. This was it.

"You can do this, Rachel," Pansy said comfortingly, putting her hand on the girl's free shoulder.

"Yeah," Millicent agreed, falling into step on Rachel's other side. "you're doing the right thing."

"Something wrong?" Terence asked from over by one of the windows. A simply enormous sharp-eyed barn out sat on his shoulder, an explanatorily empty perch beside it and Terence's letter in its beak.

"It's nothing." Rachel replied, not wanting to explain her situation to someone she had met barely fifteen minutes ago.

"Okay." Terence raised his free shoulder in a shrug and turned back to his owl. "Safe flight Hunter." He murmured to the owl, and it took off from his shoulder, through the window and vanished from sight.

Taking a deep breath, Rachel carried Artemisia over to the window and held out the letter for her to hold in her beak. "This is for Mum and Dad," she said softly to Artemisia, stroking her wing lightly. "Have a safe flight, yeah?"

Artemisia hooted her understanding, her voice slightly muffled by the letter in her beak. In the next moment she had launched herself from Rachel's shoulder, flown through the window and followed Terence's owl in vanishing into the morning sky. Rachel took another deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. The letter was gone. The matter was out of her hands now.

"How d'you feel?" Pansy whispered to Rachel so only she and Millicent could hear hear as the girls followed Terence down the Owlery steps a minute or so later.

"Nervous." Rachel replied in kind. "… but at least it's done now. There's nothing more I can do."

"…Well, you three, it was nice meeting you." Terence said with a smile as he and the three first year girls entered the Great Hall for breakfast a short while later. The girls replied in kind.

"Thanks for your help." Pansy added.

"Yeah, thanks." Rachel and Millicent agreed.

"Anytime." Terence grinned at them before turning and joining a group of second year boys including Sebastian Parkinson at the top of the Slytherin table. Pansy, Rachel and Millicent continued down the table; heading for empty seats around Daphne and Tracey.

Halfway down the table, Rachel caught Marcus's eye from where he sat with Oliver at the Ravenclaw table.

"Letter?" Marcus mouthed, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

"Sent it this morning." Rachel mouthed back.

Marcus grinned and gave her a thumbs up. Rachel smiled back and returned the gesture, sitting down at the Slytherin table. But her teeth caught the inside of her lip slightly as she pulled the nearest plate of pancakes towards her, and thought over the morning's events; and Rachel hoped against hope that her parents would still love and accept her upon reading her letter.

But Rachel did not hear back from her parents that day, or the day after that. Indeed, even as the weekend came to a close and the second week began to pass, no letter arrived. Artemisia returned to the castle, or so Rachel discovered when she went up to the Owlery before breakfast on Monday morning to see if she had; but she had not brought a letter with her.

Though she was rather unnerved by the total silence from her parents, Rachel tried not to dwell on it, telling herself that as much as she wished they would, she could not force her parents to write back. Thus, she endeavoured to have as much fun as she could, throwing herself into her classes and laughing and joking with Pansy and Millicent. The three girls also got along rather well with Daphne and Tracey; and they also got to know the boys in their year better as well. They were on pleasant-enough terms with Draco, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle- Draco having swapped derogatory comments about Muggleborns for talk of Quidditch and flying. Pansy also became friends with Theodore Nott. Professor Flitwick paired the two of them together during their first Charms lesson of the second week, and by the end of the double lesson the two were laughing and joking together, making fun of the swish and flick wand movement they were learning, which would allegedly help them to make things fly. Neither Rachel or Millicent particularly minded Pansy's friendship with Nott itself; but Rachel was rather put out about it meaning that she had to see Zabini a little more often than the mandatory times of lessons- Pansy and Nott occasionally sat next to, or near each other at meals in mid conversation and Zabini always sat with Nott, as Rachel and Millicent did with Pansy. Zabini didn't seem to particularly like the arrangement either, but he did not appear to begrudge Nott's friendship with Pansy too much, for he always sat beside his friend; remaining, as was his custom, in a haughty silence. Nott often teased him about his lack of communication, informing Zabini with a grin that he wouldn't die if he smiled or spoke; the standard response was an eye-roll, or, on Tuesday morning when Zabini was evidently exhausted for some reason or another, a snapped:

"Shut up, Theodore."

"He speaks!" Nott cried, throwing his hands up into the air in triumph. Pansy giggled. Zabini rolled his eyes and went back to his food.

On the rare occasion Zabini did speak, it was often to make a rude comment or scornful noise in Rachel's direction. He really seemed to have a knife in her ever since their first meeting, and infuriated by his rudeness, Rachel took every opportunity to retort back either defensively or in kind. Both of them delighted in the other's failure and were irritated and smug respectively when one of them succeeded.

Thiers was not the only rivalry in their year, however- Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy did not like each other at all. Though the Slytherins only had Potions with the Gryffindors, Draco never missed an opportunity to mock Potter or show off about his wealth and the parcels of sweets he regularly received from family in front of him; and Potter never missed an opportunity to glare at him, and both he and his friend Ron Weasley often looked rather as though they rather wanted to fight Draco.

When the first years returned to their common room after dinner on Wednesday, they found a large noticed pinned onto the noticeboard: they would be starting flying lessons on Thursday; and they were to learn with the Gryffindors.

"This is going to be amazing!" Millicent squealed excitedly.

"Yeah," Draco agreed, nodding, "and we're going to be learning with the Gryffindors, so I'll finally be able to put Saint Potter in his place." Since he had swapped degrading Muggleborns for talk of flying and Quidditch, Draco was often heard to complain loudly and at great length about first years never picked for their houses' respective Quidditch team and regaled extensive, boastful tales of his flying ability that somehow always ended with him narrowly evading Muggles pursuing him in helicopters.

"You'll have tough luck escaping any Muggles on the school brooms, though Malfoy," Sebastian Parkinson remarked as he came over to see what they were all looking at, his eyes darting inquisitively over the noticeboard. "The school brooms are about a thousand years old- I remember from last year that a few of them are prone to constantly flying to the left and others started to vibrate if you fly them too high up, so I wouldn't hope to put on a show."

But Draco didn't look remotely perturbed. "I'm sure I'll be fine." Was his only response.

A sense of excitement hung around the general first year population of Hogwarts on Thursday. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, who were to have flying that morning, raced out of the Hall upon the conclusion of breakfast. Looking around the hall as she, Pansy and Millicent got to their feet and shouldered their bags, Rachel caught sight of Draco, Vincent Crabbe standing in front of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom at the Gryffindor table; Draco holding a marble-sized glass ball filled with red smoke that was rapidly turning white in his fist.

"What's that thing Draco's holding?" she asked, nodding towards it. Pansy and Millicent looked around, too.

"…I think it's a Rememberall." Pansy answered after a moment. "They're really old-fashioned, though- my mother has one that her grandmother had."

"What's Draco doing with it though?" Millicent asked curiously.

"I don't think it's his." Rachel murmured as Harry Potter and Ron Weasley jumped to their feet angrily; Professor McGonagall arrived within seconds and Draco dropped the Rememberall down in front of Neville Longbottom, who picked it up and slipped it into his pocket as Draco slouched from the Great Hall, Vincent and Gregory behind him. The mystery now solved, Rachel, Pansy and Millicent girls left the Great Hall, too, bound for the Transfiguration classroom.

A little before half-past three that afternoon, Rachel, Pansy, Millicent and the other first year Slytherins walked down the stone steps at the front of the school and then down the sloping lawns of the grounds, heading towards a stretch of smooth, flat lawn on the opposing side of the grounds to the darkly swaying trees of the forbidden forest. It was on this aforementioned stretch of grass that their first flying lesson would be held.

There was no sign of a Professor, but when the Slytherins arrived they found twenty rather old-looking broomsticks lying in perfect lines on the grass.

"These don't look very safe." Pansy said warily, prodding the nearest broomstick warily with her foot. Nothing happened.

"Well, Sebastian did say they're not the best." Millicent remembered. "I don't think they'd use them if they weren't safe, though."

Just as she finished speaking, the first year Gryffindors arrived, and a minute later, a witch with yellow, hawk-like eyes and short, grey hair who introduced herself curtly as Madam Hooch.

"Well, what're all of you waiting for?" she asked, her voice rather bark-like in tone. "Everyone go and stand next to broomstick. Come on everyone- quickly."

The class hastened to do as she asked. Rachel looked down at the broomstick she'd chosen; it was very old indeed; the wood was chipped and several of the twigs in the tail were bent at awkward angles. She couldn't help but feel slightly nervous. She had had a toy broomstick when she was younger like most wizarding children, but that was the extent of her flying experience.

"Right, everyone, hold your right hand out over your chosen broom," Madam Hooch called from the front once everyone had lined up beside a broom, "then say as firmly as you can: _**'Up!"'**_

" _ **UP!"**_ chorused around the stretch of grass.

Rachel's broom didn't move at all. Pansy's rolled slightly to one side. Millicent's, however, shot straight into her hand instantly, as did Harry Potter's, Draco's, and, annoyingly, Blaise Zabini's- who looked rather smug at this, even more so when he looked around and saw that Rachel's broom was still on the ground. Rachel glared at him, annoyed further by his expression.

Madam Hooch had those whose broomsticks hadn't jumped into their hands pick them up from the ground; then showed the class how to mount the broomsticks without falling off the other end, and then strode up and down the lines of first years, correcting their grips. Draco was left rather pink in the face when, for all his talk, Madam Hooch told him his grip was completely wrong.

"Once I've blown my whistle, you are to kick firmly off from the grass," Madam Hooch went on. "You are to hold your broomsticks steady; then fly up a couple of feet, and then come right back down to the ground through leaning forwards slightly. Got it? After the whistle, then- three… two-"

But Neville Longbottom, who looked very nervous and frightened of being left on the ground, kicked off from the ground before Madam Hooch's whistle had even touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Wha- Come down here at once boy!" Madam shouted, but Neville was rocketing up through the sky in the same way a cork would shoot out of the top of a bottle… he rose twelve feet into the air; then he was twenty feet up. Then, his terrified white face peered down at the ground beneath him, he visibly gasped, and in his horror he slipped sideways off the side of the broom; then–

 _ **SMACK!**_

 _ **CRACK!**_

"ARGHH!"

A great thud rang through the air, followed instantly by a nasty crack and then Neville was laying flat on the stretch of grass, crumpled in a heap and yelling in pain. His chosen school broom continued to rocket high through the air, then, rather lazily, it began to to glide towards the forbidden forest and vanished from view.

Madam Hooch hurried over to Neville and bent over him, as white-faced as he was.

"You've broken your wrist," she muttered after a moment or so. "Come on, then boy; you've got to go to the Hospital Wing. It'll be alright; that's it, get up, come on…"

She looked over her shoulder at the other first years.

"No one is to move from the ground while I am taking this boy up to the hospital wing!" she said. "You are to leave your broomsticks exactly where they are at present, else you will be expelled from Hogwarts before you have the mind even think to speak of Quidditch. Now, come along, dear, you'll be okay." She put her arm around Neville, supporting him as he hobbled up to the castle with her, gripping his broken wrist, his face streaked with tears.

But they were not out of earshot for more than a moment before Draco Malfoy burst out laughing.

"Did you get a look at his face, the great fat lump?" he jeered. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle laughed, too.

"Be quiet, Malfoy," Parvati Patil, a Gryffindor girl, snapped.

"Oh, look at you, looking out for Longbottom," Pansy said bitingly, glaring at Parvati. "Didn't think you were the type, Parvati."

Parvati glared back and opened her mouth to retort, but Draco spoke before she could.

"Hey look here!" he said, shooting forwards and grasping something small and round from the ground. "It's the idiotic round thing that Longbottom's grandmother mailed to him."

The Remembrall he had held that morning in the Great Hall shone in the sunlight as he raised it above his head.

"Hand it over, Malfoy," Harry Potter spoke quietly but firmly, and everyone, even Pansy and Parvati, looked around to watch.

Draco smiled at him nastily.

"I don't think so Potter," he said. "I fancy leaving it someplace for Longbottom, so he can find it himself- what about… I don't know; in a very tall tree?"

"Hand it over!" Potter yelled angrily, but Draco took no notice, leaping onto his broom and taking off. It turned out there was truth behind his bragging, he was indeed a good flyer. He paused in mid air level with the highest branches of a great oak tree and called:

"Come on then, Potter, it's up here if you want it so badly!"

Potter picked up his broomstick.

"Don't!" Hermione Granger shouted. "Madam Hooch just said we weren't to move- if you go up there all of us are going to get in trouble, too."

But Harry Potter didn't take any notice of her; instead he mounted his broom and kicked off hard from the grass and soared up into the sky as steadily as Draco had; steadier, even. Paravti Patil screamed and Rachel and Millicent gasped as Potter flew even higher than Draco. Ron Weasley whooped admiringly.

Up in the sky above them, Potter turned his broom around sharply so that he was facing Draco in mid-air. Draco, for his part, looked stunned- clearly he had not expected Potter to be able to fly as well as he did.

"Give me the Rememberall," the first years on the ground heard Potter call, "or I will knock you off your broomstick!"

 _"Really?"_ Draco retorted; he tried very hard to sneer, but even from the ground, the other first years could see he looked worried.

Harry Potter, in contrast, suddenly soared towards Draco in a manner not dissimilar to that of the javelins Rachel had seen flying in the sports day of her local Muggle school. Draco only just managed to get out of the way before Potter reached him; Potter turned sharply, somehow remaining steady in mid-air. Millicent and several of the Gryffindors applauded, all of them looking very impressed indeed.

"Crabbe and Goyle aren't up here to save you, you know Malfoy!" Potter called out.

Draco seemed to realise this, too, for he raised the Rememberall above his head.

"Here you are- have it, then!" he replied in a shout, and he flung the Rememberall high up into the air above his head and rocketed back towards the stretch of grass where the other first years' stood. But none of them, with the exemption of Crabbe and Goyle, paid him any mind, for in the next moment Harry Potter had shot down into a steep dive, racing for the Rememberall, which had started to fall down towards the ground. Several Gryffindors screamed as his dive steepened further and Potter stretched out a hand towards the Rememberall. Seconds later Potter was a foot from the ground and had caught the ball, just in time to straighten his broomstick and topple gently back down onto the stretch of grass; the Remembrall securely in his clenched fist.

 _ **"HARRY POTTER!"**_

Professor McGonagall was hurrying towards the first years; Harry Potter hastened to get to his feet, suddenly trembling.

"I have never- not in all the years I've been here at Hogwarts-" McGonagall was nearly speechless from shock, and her eyes were flashing furiously behind her glasses, "-how could you – you could have broken your neck- or worse-"

"Professor McGonagall, it was not Harry's fault-" Parvati Patil began, but Professor McGonagall cut across her.

"Miss Patil, kindly be quiet!"

"But it was Malfoy-" Ron Weasley began.

"That is quite enough, thank you, Mr. Weasley." Professor McGonagall interrupted him, too. "Follow me, Mr Potter; immediately."

Draco, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle smirked triumphantly as Harry Potter left the stretch of grass that served as their classroom, walking rather numbly after Professor McGonagall as she marched up the grounds towards the school.

"…That wasn't so bad, was it?" Millicent said with a smile as she, Pansy and Rachel made their way up the Grand Staircase at the end of the flying lesson. The rest of the lesson had passed relatively smoothly; Madam Hooch's lips had thinned considerably when she heard of what had occurred between Harry Potter and Draco upon her return to the first years; and she had deducted twenty points from Slytherin for Draco's part and- seeing and hearing that he neither he, nor Harry were hurt, given Draco detention cleaning out the broomshed that afternoon as opposed to expelling him. She then had the first years carry out some basic flying exercises- something Millicent, Draco and, annoyingly, Zabini had excelled at; Ron Weasley, for his part, was rather shaky; and Rachel and Pansy struggled with considerably. By the end of the lesson Zabini looked so smug Rachel longed to punch him or at least stamp on his foot, but refrained for fear of getting a detention.

Now the Slytherins girls were en route to the library- they needed a copy of _Seeing Stars: A guide to Constellations_ by Thebe Estelle, to write their Astronomy essays and Rachel had finished reading and returned Tracey's copy of _The Liberator of Lycanthropes: The Biography of Damocles Belby_ with thanks, and wanted to see if the library could offer her any more information about her uncle.

"You could have been a bit civiler to Parvati, though, Pansy." Millicent went on. "For the sake of face."

"I don't care about face- I will be civil to her when she apologizes for snapping the head off my new doll in nursery!" Pansy snapped. "It was the last present I ever got from my grandmother!"

"Alright, alright I forgot, sorry." Millicent raised her hands in surrender. Pansy exhaled.

"Thank you." She said. "...and yes, the lesson wasn't that bad for a first time." She continued as the three entered a girls' bathroom on the first floor en route to the library. Just past the threshold, however, the three girls paused, looking around them.

Great whine-like sobs were echoing around the bathroom from a cubicle right at the other end of the room. Rachel, Pansy and Millicent exchanged glances.

"Er- hello?" Millicent called, leading the way as the three girls approached the cubicle. "Are- are you alright in there?"

"Leave me alone!" A voice shrieked in response, and Millicent, Pansy and Rachel stumbled back in alarm as the ghost of a squat witch of around fourteen with lank, dark hair complete with a fringe, a number of pimples, thick glasses and a Ravenclaw Hogwarts' uniform rocketed out of the top of the cubicle and glared down at them from midair, her eyes filled with tears.

"Who are you?" Rachel blurted out in surprise, not expecting to encounter a ghost. The ghost swelled indignantly.

"My name is Myrtle Warren- but no one bothers to remember that!" she cried. "I know what everyone calls me- I know! I know I'm _Moaning Myrtle!"_

"Oh- well- that's not very nice." Rachel said lamely, not entirely sure what to say to that.

"No- no- not at all." Pansy and Millicent added. Moaning Myrtle's eyes filled with fresh tears.

"You're all making fun of me!" she cried, glaring at them. "My life was a complete misery in this place and now everyone has come along and try to ruin my death! NOW GO AWAY!"

She dove back into her cubicle as she spoke, and a great wave of water splashed out from within. A second wave of water flew from the cubicle beside it moments later and the three girls fled from the bathroom, not stopping until they reached the entrance to the library, calming their breathing before entering the room and avoiding the glare of the vulture-like librarian Madam Pince.

* * *

Despite Madam Hooch's threat that anyone who flew would be expelled, when the first year Slytherins entered the Great Hall for dinner that evening, Harry Potter was sitting at the Gryffindor table, talking animatedly with Ron Weasley, who was holding a forgotten piece of steak and kidney pudding halfway to his mouth.

"What is he still doing here?" Draco asked, frowning.

"Maybe he wasn't expelled." Pansy shrugged. "You weren't."

"But he was dragged off by McGonagall!" Draco pointed out. "C'mon, Crabbe; Goyle."

And he headed over to the Gryffindor table. Vincent and Gregory followed dutifully, while the rest of the first years sat down at the Slytherin table and started on dinner. Several minutes passed and then Draco, Vincent and Gregory came over and sat down, too.

"He hasn't been expelled." Draco said. "But he's going to be."

"What're you talking about?" Nott asked, choosing a baked potato.

"I've challenged him and Weasley to a duel at midnight in the trophy room." Draco explained, spooning mashed potato onto his own plate. "But I'm not going. All I'm going to do is tell Filch that there's a rumour going around that students are planning on trashing the trophy room tonight at midnight and by tomorrow morning Potter and Weasley will be gone." He grinned, triumphantly.

Rachel frowned. "Why're you so intent on getting Potter expelled?" she asked. "Why do you hate him so much?"

"He annoys me; always playing the Saint." Draco grumbled, spearing a sausage with his knife.

But the following morning, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were eating breakfast at the Gryffindor Table, looking rather tired but cheerful. Draco was livid.

"Unbelievable!" he spluttered, staring across the Hall as though he couldn't believe his eyes. "How the hell does he get away with everything?!"

"No one can get away with everything." Nott said wisely, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. "And anyway, it's not as though he's being rewarded."

But Nott's words did not hold true for long. About a week later, during breakfast, the attention of the entire Hall was captured when six large screech owls delivered a long, thin parcel with the post. The Hall watch as the owls flew down the Gryffindor table and dropped the parcel right in front of Harry Potter, sending his breakfast cluttering down onto the floor. Then a seventh owl flew down, too, dropping an envelope onto the package before flying way after its fellows.

"What on earth is that?" Pansy asked, raising her eyebrows as Potter opened the letter.

"Fairly obvious what it is," her cousin Sebastian spoke from a few seats down, staring curiously across the Hall. "It's shaped like a broomstick."

Draco seemed to realise this too, for he made sure to leave the Great Hall before Potter, Vincent and Gregory in tow as usual. The other Slytherins caught sight of the three of them lurking behind suits of armor as they crossed the Entrance Hall on their way to Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"Probably laying in wait for Potter." Daphne said, rolling her eyes. Nott and Zabini snickered, waving at the three.

"I think Draco might have a problem." Tracey said. Rachel was inclined to agree.

Draco, Vincent and Gregory did not arrive outside the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom until just before the bell that signified the start of the lesson.

"He's got a Nimbus Two Thousand!" Draco lamented, slumping against the wall outside the classroom.

"He does?" Millicent asked, her expression brightening. "…He's got to be on the Gryffindor Quidditch team." She realised after a moment, a grin spreading across her face. "Brilliant!"

Draco stared at her. "It what realm is that brilliant?" he demanded. "If Gryffindor's got a Nimbus we've got no chance in the league!"

"Well, yeah," Millicent acknowledged, "But I've never seen a Nimbus fly before! Oh, this is going to be amazing!"

But Draco did not share this sentiment. Indeed, he spent the entirely of their Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson grumbling darkly under his breath, which lead to Professor Quirrell wondering if there was a problem with the plumbing in the walls.

* * *

The next few weeks passed for Rachel in a smooth flow of lessons, which were getting very interesting indeed now that the first years had grasps of the basics, homework, laughing joking and relaxing with Pansy and Millicent, glaring at Zabini and radio silence from her parents. Rachel couldn't help but get steadily more upset about the latter, so much so that Marcus wrote to their parents, asking if they had received her letter and was everything was alright, but their response made no mention of Rachel's letter or even Rachel herself, instead stating simply that they were quite alright and hoped he had settled back into Hogwarts' life well.

On the morning of the thirty-first of October, Halloween, the students of Hogwarts awoke to the smell of baking pumpkin floating deliciously through the castle's corridors from the kitchens. This put the school in a very good mood, and thus the morning post was received with great enthusiasm, for many owls were carrying parcels filled with sweets, cakes and chocolates for students from their families.

Draco received a simply enormous wicker basket from his parents, which was full to bursting with quite possibly everything that had ever been sold at Honeydukes. Nott was sent a beautifully decorated box that was almost as big from his aunt which was, too, filled with a great amount of confectionary. Pansy, Millicent, Daphne, Tracey, Vincent and Gregory received boxes of a medium size and Zabini received nothing at all, nor did his sister Irma. Irma did not seem to be bothered at all, but Zabini glared around him defiantly, as though daring someone to say something. But no-one did, not even Rachel; though she did not like Zabini she knew where to draw the line and in any case, she couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for him.

"Hey, Rachel," Marcus approached her from the Ravenclaw table, carrying two parcels wrapped in dark blue crepe paper; the smaller of the two was perfectly wrapped, the tape invisible and the second rather shoddily and fastened with slightly visible Spellotape. "Mum and Dad sent us some stuff- this is yours."

He handed her the packages. The perfectly wrapped one had 'Rachel' written in black ink in their mother's handwriting and contained a small six pack of caldron cakes. The larger one was labelled 'Rachel', too, but looking closely, Rachel could tell that whoever had wrapped had tried and failed to mimic both their mother's handwriting and the perfect corners and wrapping style of the first parcel. The second was full to bursting with Pumpkin Pasties, Chocolate Frogs, Cauldron Cakes, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Jelly Slugs and Sugar Quills. Glancing around Marcus's side as she took the two parcels, Rachel saw their parents' owl Rowena drinking deeply from a goblet of pumpkin juice; Oliver rummaging through a box of his own and a flat, square box half full with Pumpkin Pasties, Chocolate Frogs, more Cauldron Cakes, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Jelly Slugs and Sugar Quills- everything that was in the second, rather shoddily wrapped parcel Marcus had just given Rachel, on the table in front of where, thanks to Rowena and Oliver, Rachel could tell Marcus had been sitting. There was, too, she could see, no other crepe paper in or around the contents of the box, and after a moment, Rachel realised what must have happened.

The six pack of Cauldron Cakes with her name on them were the only things her parents had intended for her. The rest of the sweets both in the box and in the parcel were intended for Marcus. The box had clearly once been lined with the blue crepe paper and Marcus had taken that paper and used it to wrap up half the sweets and labelled it, trying to make it look as though their mother had included them for her with the Cauldron Cakes.

Rachel looked up at Marcus to find him watching her sheepishly. She knew that he could tell she had worked out what her parents had actually sent her, but she appreciated what he had been trying to do all the same.

"Thank you." She said with a smile, feeling a rush of affection for her brother.

Marcus smiled back. "It's nothing." He replied. "Have a good day." Tugging her headband to one side, he left. Rachel made a face after him and straightened her headband. Despite her appreciating Marcus's gesture and knowing it was better than nothing, Rachel couldn't help but feel rather sad as she looked down at the small six pack of cauldron cakes her parents had actually intended for her, and then at the full-to-bursting parcel that was only half of Marcus's sweets. It was, she rather fancied, the closest thing to an answer to her letter she was going to get.

The day, however, did get slightly better. That afternoon, in Charms, Professor Flitwick informed them that he believed they were ready to start making items fly, which was something the Slytherins had all been looking forward to learning to since they'd watched him send a chocolate frog Nott had tried to eat during class in the third week zoom around the classroom and land atop his desk, where it remained until the end of the lesson. Following this announcement, Professor Flitwick divided the class up pairs, gave each pair a feather, and commenced practice.

"Make sure that you do not forget about that nice wrist wave that we have been practicing!" Professor Flitwick squeaked from his usual spot, atop of his stack of books. "Make sure you remember to Swish and flick; swish and flick. Saying the magic words correctly is also incredibly important- keep in mind the Wizard Baruffio, who pronounced 's' as opposed to 'f' and then found himself laying on his floor with a live buffalo laying across his chest."

But making objects fly was easier said than done. Neither Rachel nor Millicent could make their feather move in any way whatsoever; and after their eighth attempt each, Rachel lost her temper slightly in her frustration.

"This is ridiculous- _Wingardium Leviosa_!" she cried, swishing and flicking her wand at the feather.

Nothing happened.

Zabini snickered from his seat a few rows behind them; Rachel turned around sharply, raising an eyebrow when she saw that Malfoy was waving his wand around the feather Zabini shared with him rather glumly, saying the incantation over and over again without success. Zabini glared at her.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Millicent cried forcefully, mimicking Rachel's actions.

 _ **BANG!**_

Rachel leapt back around in alarm, her mouth falling open in surprise as her and Millicent's feather rocketed off the desk and it the ceiling with such force that half of its feathers were torn from its stem.

"W-wow," Millicent breathed, looking rather amazed herself. "I was not expecting that."

"Not to worry girls, not to worry," Professor Flitwick said kindly, issuing them a second feather.

" _Wingardium Leviosa!"_ Pansy tried a third time, waving her wand over the feather she shared with Theodore Nott. It rose into the air, pausing and hovering four feet above their heads.

"How did you do that?" Nott asked, staring at her in amazement.

"I'm not sure," she replied with a smile, making the feather twirl around above them. "It just happened."

"Oh, well done Miss Parkinson!" Professor Flitwick beamed at her. "You're one of the only two people in year who has been able to accomplish this- Miss Hermione Granger of Gryffindor managed to do so this morning- so well done to you!"

"Thank you, sir." Pansy grinned.

"… Well, that wasn't a complete flop, on the whole, that is." Daphne Greengrass remarked as the first year Slytherins went down to the dungeons to to drop off their schoolbags before dinner. "Full credit to you, Pansy, you really saved our faces with Flitwick."

Pansy shrugged modestly. "It was nothing, really; like I said it just happened."

"It was cool, though." Nott said, smiling at her; he and Zabini were walking at the back of the group.

"Thanks." Pansy said, smiling back at him over her shoulder.

"…Are you alright Millicent?" Rachel asked, looking at her friend in concern as they left the dormitory for the Great Hall a little while later, slightly behind Daphne and Tracey. Millicent had looked rather upset since their first feather exploded, and rather more so when their second didn't move at all.

"Oh, yeah." Millicent looked up from the ground, managing a smile. "I mean, I'm happy for you, Pansy, I am- I just wish I could follow in my grandmother's footsteps."

"Well, maybe you should try finding your own feet, at least at first," Pansy suggested. "You are really good at Herbology after all."

"Yeah, you're brilliant," Rachel agreed, nodding.

Millicent said nothing, but she looked a little more cheerful. Indeed, she seemed to forget her upset completely when she and the other girls entered the Great Hall and took in the Halloween decorations. The Hall was lined with carved pumpkins, their carvings illuminated by beautifully glowing pumpkins; and what looked like a thousand live bats flew from the walls to the celling and back again, while what looked like a thousand more swooped down low over the tables and across the Hall in great black swarms, making the flames of the candles inside the pumpkins splutter around helplessly.

"Wow." Tracey murmured, looking around as the girls sat down at the Slytherin table. Just as they did so, the feast appeared on the golden plates, quite as suddenly as ever.

Rachel had just accepted the pepper from Pansy when all at once, Professor Quirrell sprinted into the Great Hall, his purple turban skewed and an expression of great terror written across his face. The entire school stared at him as he reached the staff table, slumped against it in front of Professor Dumbledore's chair and gasped, "T-there is a troll- in- inside the dungeons, I- I just thought that you o-ought t-to k-know."

Then he sank down onto the stone floor beneath him, having fallen into a dead faint.

Instant uproar ensued. Pansy, Millicent and Rachel screamed, as it many of the Hall; Draco Malfoy threw down his food; across the Hall, Marcus had gone as white as a sheet; even Zabini- who Rachel had thought was only capable of expressing indifference and distain outside of his alarm in Transfiguration- looked terrified, as did Nott, Crabbe and Goyle. It took Professor Dumbledore firing several purple firecrackers from the end of his wand all at once to restore order and silence.

"House Prefects; our Head girl and boy," he boomed, "Kindly lead your respective Houses back to their dormitories at once!"

Gemma Farley was utterly petrified.

"TROLL!" she shrieked, clutching onto her fellow prefect Alex's arm and shaking him so hard his eyes boggled. "THERE'S A BLOODY _TROLL_ IN THE DUNGEONS- _OUR_ DUNGEONS! A TR-"

" _GEMMA- CALM DOWN!"_ Alex bellowed, so suddenly that the first years jumped and Gemma fell silent. "Listen here, Gem." Alex said calmly, prising her hands from his arm and holding them in his. "Firstly, there's no evidence that the troll is actually bleeding- _ow!"_ he exclaimed, clutching his chest as Gemma wrenched her hands from his, shoved him hard and stormed from the hall.

Zabini and Nott sniggered; how they could find it in them to laugh Rachel didn't know, for she herself was as terrified as Gemma had been. Alex glared at them.

"Shut it you two or I'll leave you behind." He snapped. "Single file then firsties, in front me, that's it- off we go, then- and for Merlins sake keep your eyes peeled!"

The first years set off; leaving the Great Hall, crossing the Entrance Hall and making their way down into dungeons, looking around; all of them unnerved. Slytherins were hurrying through the dungeons in groups all around them, looking around, too; and every now and then the first years glimpsed a Professor running along a corridor, but the troll was nowhere to be seen.

"This sucks." Nott complained, flinging himself down onto one of the sofas in front of the crackling fireplace upon the first years' entering the common room. Alex vanished down into the boys' dormitories, but many of the Slytherins remained in the common room, like the first years, sitting and swirling around the room, discussing the Troll. "We hardly got to eat!"

"Cheer up- at least we're not Troll food." Pansy said, sitting down beside him. "Besides we've got all the stuff our parents sent us- we could pool that and eat it."

This suggestion was agreed to and the first years went down to their dormitories to collect their parcels. They gathered again some five minutes later; sitting in a circle on the hearthrug in front of the fireplace and piling all their sweets and chocolate into a large pile and taking whatever took their fancy. Rachel avoided catching anyone's eye as she added to the pile, embarrassed that practically all of her contribution had been intended for her brother.

Zabini had nothing to add to the pile, but he didn't take anything from it either; he simply sat there in his usual haughty silence. Then, Nott pushed four of his parcel's Chocolate Frogs, Liquorice Wands and Pumpkin Pasties towards him, his expression saying quite clearly: _'I will punch you if you try and give these back.'_

Zabini's expression did not change, but Rachel saw something flicker through his eyes for a spilt second; something Nott seemed to catch and understand, for he smiled.

"Don't mention it." He said quietly. A moment later, Zabini picked up the sweets Nott gave him, got to his feet and headed off into the crowd of Slytherins swirling about the common room, many of them eating sweets in groups like the first years.

Another moment passed and then he was back, minus half the sweets. He caught sight of Rachel looking at him and glared at her, raising an eyebrow challengingly. Rachel glared back at him, but said nothing, not wanting to spoil the kindred feeling that surrounded the first years. A moment passed, but Zabini said nothing, either, turning his head away sharply and unwrapping the Pumpkin Pasty Nott had given him. Rachel looked away, too, straightening her headband as it slipped slightly to one side and biting into a cauldron cake. A moment later, Vincent Crabbe challenged Gregory Goyle to a round of Exploding Snap, and a long, exciting and incredibly competitive game ensued.

Once all the sweets had been eaten, and their wrappers had been thrown into the fire, and the Exploding Snap match had been won by Vincent Crabbe, the first years decided to go up to bed.

The common room was almost entirely empty at this point and as she and the other first year girls crossed the common room to get to their dormitory doors, Rachel caught sight of Irma Zabini sitting in an armchair in front of a bookshelf, reading what looked like an Italian fashion magazine. She was, too, to Rachel's great surprise, eating a Chocolate Frog; and another Chocolate Frog, two Liquorice Wands and two Pumpkin Pasties lay on the table beside her.

 **A/N: Please review! :)**


	11. Chapter 11: Going Home for Christmas

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else that may be referenced in this chapter. The** _ **bold, italic, underline text**_ **are direct quotes from the Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone book.**

 **A/N: Colossal thank you to you all. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)**

 **Chapter 11: Going Home for Christmas**

 _Once all the sweets had been eaten, and their wrappers had been thrown into the fire, and the Exploding Snap match had been won by Vincent Crabbe, the first years decided to go up to bed._

 _The common room was almost entirely empty at this point and as she and the other first year girls crossed the common room to get to their dormitory doors, Rachel caught sight of Irma Zabini sitting in an armchair in front of a bookshelf, reading what looked like an Italian fashion magazine. She was, too, to Rachel's great surprise, eating a Chocolate Frog; and another Chocolate Frog, two Liquorice Wands and two Pumpkin Pasties lay on the table beside her._

The weather turned very cold indeed as time moved from October to November. The mountains surrounding the castle and its grounds changed colour to an icy grey and the Black Lake greatly resembled frozen steel, even out of the windows of the dungeons. The grass in the grounds outside was covered in a new layer of frost every morning; and the gamekeeper, Hagrid, could be observed from the castle's upper windows wrapped up in an enormous moleskin overcoat, huge beaverskin boots and gloves made from rabbit fur, thawing Hogwarts' supply of broomsticks on the school's Quidditch pitch.

The start of November brought with it the start of the Hogwarts Inter-House Quidditch League- something, it soon transpired, that was taken very seriously indeed by a great majority of the school, especially in Slytherin, for they had won the League for the past seven consecutive years. The first match of the season, which was to be held on the Saturday of the first week of that month, would be Slytherin vs. Gryffindor; and it was a poorly kept secret that Harry Potter was Gryffindor's new Seeker.

Though Millicent was rather pleased that her diagnosis of Potter's being on Gryffindor's team was correct, Draco was very vocal about his dissenting this appointment.

"This is a bloody nightmare!" He groaned leaning back in one of the wooden chairs that surrounded a table in the common room, the evening the first years had got word of the news.

"I wouldn't go that far," Daphne countered, tilting her head to one side as she looked up from her Astronomy essay.

"Yeah," Nott agreed with a grin, finishing his Herbology essay with a flourish. "There's no evidence that the nightmare is actually bleeding."

"Shut up, Nott." Draco snapped as Pansy laughed. "As I was saying." Draco went on, ignoring Pansy. "This is a bloody nightmare!"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake Draco, there's nothing you can do about Potter being Gryffindor's Seeker, so why waste time moaning about it?" Rachel snapped, throwing her quill down. She was in rather a bad mood, having been struggling considerably with her Potions homework for the past twenty minutes- for the life of her, she could not get a handle on the Herbicide Potion. Her efforts that had not been helped by Zabini's sitting at the next table, a smug smirk on his lips as he raced through his own Potions essay. He had gone up slightly in Rachel's estimation when she'd saw he had split his Halloween sweets with his older sister; but despite this selflessness he had sunk back down again thanks to his snickering and smirking every time Rachel made a mistake in class or struggled with something he found easy; namely Potions.

"Yes Potter's a brilliant flyer and has a Nimbus Two Thousand, but Slytherin have won the entire League for seven years in a row, so we're not entirely useless!" Rachel went on, ignoring Zabini.

Draco stared at her. "Have you _any_ idea how fast a Nimbus Two Thousand is, Belby?" he demanded. "It's the fastest broom in the _world_ ; and Gryffindor's Seeker, the great Saint Potter- has one-"

"Oh, forget it!" Rachel groaned, giving up and diving, rather in vain, back into her potions essay.

The Saturday of the Quidditch match dawned sunny, but cold. The atmosphere in the Great Hall was very cheerful indeed. Everyone was looking forward to the match; even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had chosen sides, the vast majority of them siding with Gryffindor; though both Marcus and Oliver received dirty looks from many of Ravenclaw- including Terry and Lisa- when they marched proudly into the Great Hall, Slytherin scarves around their necks.

"Where did you get those?" Rachel asked with a laugh as Marcus and Oliver approached the Slytherin table and swatted her over the head with the ends of their scarves. She could see Terry and Lisa glaring over at them around Oliver's right side, but she ignored them.

"We went to kitchens and asked the house-elves for a couple." Marcus explained. "This is only because Ravenclaw's not playing, mind. If Slytherin was playing Ravenclaw it would be game on, sister dear."

"Oh, naturally," Rachel grinned. "I didn't know Hogwarts had House-elves."

"Yeah- there're loads." Oliver nodded. "And isn't a sign of a good servant that no-one realises it's there?"

"Maybe, yeah," Rachel agreed. "But didn't they report you for going to the kitchens?" she asked. "I wouldn't think students were allowed in there."

"We're not," Marcus grinned, "but the House-elves won't report you, they love getting visitors- they're only too happy to get you anything you need, food, clothes- whatever. I'll show you where the kitchens are sometime tomorrow, if you like."

Rachel hesitated. The thought of getting caught out of bounds did not appeal to her in the slightest, but the thought of knowing where a room full of House Elves that were apparently willing to help you out with anything you needed was very appealing…

"…Alright." She agreed, nodding. "That would be useful to know."

"It is." Marcus confirmed. "Well, enjoy the match."

Raising their hands in farewell, Marcus and Oliver left for the Ravenclaw table. Rachel turned her attention back to her breakfast, straightening her own Slytherin scarf as she did so.

By the time eleven o'clock rolled around, what looked like the entire school were sitting in the stands around Hogwarts's Quidditch pitch, wearing scarves and clutching flag and binoculars; though the stands were very high up, it would still be hard to see what was happening given the height the players were going to be flying at. The first year Gryffindors had, too, made a large banner out of a sheet that had a drawing of a lion on it and read 'Potter for President!' and flashed different colours.

A second year boy with dreadlocks- Lee Jordan, or so he introduced himself- was commentating through a magical megaphone, supervised by Professor McGonagall. Rachel, sitting in the middle of the stands with the other first year Slytherins, wondered if he was the same Lee Jordan who had had a tarantula on the Hogwarts Express as Madam Hooch, the flying teacher, was who was refereeing, strode into the pitch, a whistle around her neck, her broomstick in her hand and a large trunk under her arm. She sat the latter down middle of the pitch and stood beside it, waiting for the two teams as they strode onto the pitch to thunderous cheers and applause. The two teams lined up facing one another, the Slytherins in green robes and the Gryffindors in red.

Madam Hooch spoke to the teams for a moment, and then the captains of the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams shook hands- the Gryffindor Captain was a well-build and burly fifth-year boy with brown hair and brown eyes; and the Slytherin Captain was a tall, muscular fifth-year boy with rather large teeth, shifty grey eyes and course black hair. Then the two teams mounted their broomsticks; Madam Hooch raising the whistle around her neck to her lips and taking her wand from her as they did so.

"THWWEEETTT!"

The shrill blast of Madam Hooch's whistle filled the air and the players shot up into the air. At the same time, Madam Hooch tapped the lid of the trunk with her wand and it shot open, releasing the five balls of the game. Madam Hooch mounted her own broom rose high, high up into the sky alongside the balls.

The match had begun.

As the players sprung into action, Lee Jordan commenced his commentary.

"And at once the Quaffle is taken by Gryffindor Chaser Angelina Johnson- She's an outstanding Chaser that girl, and very attractive, as well-"

 _ **"JORDAN!"**_ Professor McGonagall barked sternly.

"Apologies, Professor," Jordan said, his grin clear in his tone. "Johnson's really racing along up the pitch- oh what a great pass to Alicia Spinnet- she's a great discovery of Oliver Wood's; she was only a reserve last year- the Quaffle is back with Johnson and- oh, no, Slytherins have taken possession; Slytherin's Captain Marcus Flint gets the Quaffle and he's off- Flint is flying like he's an eagle- he's near the goalposts- he is going to sc- oh, no, he's been stopped by a brilliant move by the Gryffindor Keeper Oliver Wood and Gryffindor takes the Quaffle- Gryffindor's Chaser Katie Bell is in possession and with a lovely dive round Flint, she's streaking off up the pitch and- OOOH- that must've hurt, she's been smacked in the back of her head by one of the Bludgers- the Quaffle has been taken Slytherins- it's Slytherin's Adrian Pucey zooming off towards Gryffindor's goalposts, but no, he has been stopped by the other Bludger- which was sent to him by either Fred or George Weasley, can't tell exactly which- great play by whichever Gryffindor Beater, anyhow, and Angelina Johnson's back with the Quaffle, there's an empty pitch before her and she's off- she really is flying well- Johnson evades a hurtling Bludger- Slytherin's goal posts are up in front- now, come on Angelina- Slytherin's Keeper Bletchley reaches- and he misses the Quaffle- GRYFFINDOR SCORE!"

The Slytherin supporters groaned and howled, punctuating the cheers of the Gryffindors. High above most of the players, Harry Potter did several loop-the-loops.

"…Slytherin is in possession of the Quaffle," Lee Jordan said. "Adrian Pucey dodges two Bludgers -one from each Weasley- as well as Gryffindor's Katie Bell, and speeds in the direction of the- hang on a minute- wasn't that the Golden Snitch?"

"Where?" Rachel and the rest the first years murmured along with the rest of the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle as he looked around over his left shoulder at the blur of gold that had shot past his ear.

"Oh you idiot!" Millicent groaned, her binoculars falling around her neck as she buried her head in her hands. "What did you drop the Quaffle for?!"

"Merlin knows." Sebastian Parkinson answered over his shoulder from the row below, his own binoculars fixed to his eyes.

"Potter's seen the snitch- look!" Daphne shouted, jumping to her feet and pointing. The other first years whipped around, following her finger.

Potter had dived downwards towards the ground in pursuit of the golden. Terence Higgs, who was as he'd said, Slytherin's Seeker had seen the snitch too, and was rocketing towards it. Potter and Terence were neck and neck as they tore towards the Snitch– all eyes were on them, even the Chasers were hanging watching in midair, looking as though they had forgotten what they were supposed to be doing.

Potter's broom was faster than Terence's- the Slytherin supporters groaned as one as Potter inched further and further towards the golden blur that was the Snitch- but he and Terence were not the only ones heading towards the Snitch-

A great roar of fury rang around the stands from the Gryffindor supporters as Potter's broom spun away from the Snitch; Potter clinging on for his life; Marcus Flint having blocked him deliberately.

 _ **"Foul!"**_ the Gryffindors screamed.

Madam Hooch had a few words with Flint, looking angry; then she ordered that Gryffindor have a free shot at the Slytherin goalposts.

"Well, it wasn't the finest or smartest move, but Flint bought us some time at least," Draco remarked, pushing his hair from his eyes. The other first years murmured their agreement- Terence had been forced to brake sharply when Marcus Flint sent Potter off course, and though the snitch was now nowhere to be seen, the match was still on.

Lee Jordan, however, took a very negative view indeed.

"So- following that clear and revolting spot of cheating-

"Mr Jordan!" Professor McGonagall growled.

"I mean, following that public and repulsive foul-

"Lee Jordan, this is a warning-"

"Okay, okay," Lee Jordan raised a hand in surrender. "Slytherin's Flint almost kills Gryffindor's Seeker, something that can happen to anybody, certainly, so a penalty shot is assigned to Gryffindor, and taken by Spinnet, who scores with little difficulty, and the match continues- Gryffindor remains in possession of the Quaffle."

The Gryffindor Chaser Spinnet- a dark skinned girl with black hair and brown eyes- flung the Quaffle to her fellow Chaser Bell- a pale girl with long brown hair and hazel eyes- who caught the ball with ease-

"Hey- what's the matter with Potter?" Sebastian Parkinson asked suddenly, drawing the attention of those around him from the Quaffle to Gryffindor's Seeker.

Potter was zigzagging through the sky above the other players, swishing around violently every now and again and almost falling off his broom and what little they could see of his face was ashen.

"It looks like his broom's gone mad or something!" Rachel exclaimed, unnerved.

"Broomsticks can't go mad, Belby- they're not people." Zabini scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Rachel glared at him. "Well, what would you say it is then?" she demanded defensively.

"The broom has been, or is being, cursed." Zabini answered as though it was obvious. _"'It looks like his broom's gone mad!'_ " he said scornfully, raising his voice and waving his hands mockingly.

Rachel flushed angrily and opened her mouth to retort.

"Flint's got the Quaffle!" Pansy cried before Rachel could speak, pointing.

Flint did indeed have the Quaffle- he soared passed Spinnet and Bell; ducked his head as one of the Weasley twins sent a Bludger towards him; the ball hit his face hard, but Flint kept flying; flinging the Quaffle towards the Gryffindor goalposts.

The Slytherins burst out into cheers as the Quaffle sailed through the hoop seconds before the Gryffindor Keeper reached it.

" _LOOK AT POTTER!"_ Tracey shouted, jumping to her feet, her hands over her mouth.

Something was definitely wrong with Potter's broom. It was rolling over and over in midair; Potter holding on by the skin of his teeth. Gasps echoed around the stadium as the broom suddenly jerked wildly, unseating Potter, who end up dangling from it's middle, only managing to hold on with one hand.

The entire stadium leapt to its feet. Rachel watched, as terrified as everyone else was, as the Weasleys flew up to Potter's height and tried to pull him safely from his broom onto onto one of theirs, but to no avail- whenever they got near him, Potter's broom jumped even higher. Then the twins flew beneath Potter and started to circle, clearly preparing to catch him if he accidently let go. Over by the Gryffindor goalposts, Flint grabbed the Quaffle and scored five consecutive times without anybody paying any mind.

Then, all at once, Potter's broom stopped jumping and Potter quickly scrambled back up onto his broom. But there was little time for anyone to be relived or celebrate for in the next moment Potter was hurtling towards ground; the crowd leant forwards confusedly, recoiling slightly when they saw him cover his mouth with his hand like he was going to be sick- then he landed on the pitch on all fours; then he coughed into the hand; and the next thing the crowd knew he was sitting up, waving his fist in the air.

 _ **"I've got the Snitch!"**_ Potter yelled, and, in a blur of general confusion, the match came to a close.

"He did not _catch_ the Snitch; he just nearly _swallowed_ the Snitch!" Marcus Flint was still wailing as the first year Slytherins finally managed to get down from the stands some twenty minutes later. But his protests were in vain, for Potter had not infringed any of the rules. Lee Jordan was still shouting the score happily into his megaphone: one hundred and seventy points to sixty in Gryffindor's favour.

Draco very vocally shared Marcus Flint's opinion.

"Well that was a bust." He said disgustedly as the first years made their way back to the castle. He grinned suddenly, though rather nastily. "If that's how Potter's going to catch the snitch they might as well replace him with a wide-mouthed tree frog!"

He looked around as though expecting them to laugh, but no-one did, not even Vincent or Gregory.

"Who cares how he caught the Snitch?" Daphne asked rhetorically. "Like him or not, you have to admit that it was really cool how he managed to hang on to his broom when he fell off."

The rest of the first years murmured their agreement; even Zabini looked rather as though he thought she had a point, and he rarely participated in the first years' conversations.

Draco looked very put out.

* * *

The rest of November passed in relative peace. Marcus fulfilled his offer the day after the match and showed Rachel where the kitchens were and how to access them, knowledge she shared with her fellow first years; the weather grew steadily colder; and the first years' classes continued to derive interest. But unlike Pansy, who excelled at Charms; Millicent who was brilliant at Herbology; and even Zabini, who was, irritatingly, admittedly excellent at Potions; Rachel had yet to find something she was actually _good_ at. She knew a great deal about the job of Minister for Magic and those who had held it, yes, but that was something that was only briefly touched on in History of Magic and also was not much use to her in any of her other subjects. Though she did well enough to pass her classes- with the exception of Potions, at which, Rachel quickly learnt, she was utterly hopeless- it would be nice to actually excel at something.

Quite outside of Rachel's having these thoughts, a couple of events took place amongst the first year Slytherins and the school as a whole as November came to a close and December began. Nott and Millicent had their twelfth birthdays on the twenty-eight of November and third of December respectively. These events- along with Crabbe's birthday which they celebrated early as it was not until the twenty-eight of December, when they would all be on holiday- were celebrated with cakes and confectionary from the kitchens- as Marcus had said, the House-elves were only too happy to cook or find anything requested.

In the second week of December, Professor Snape came walking down the Slytherin table with a large roll of parchment and a quill in hand.

Irma Zabini looked up from a letter a hawk-like owl had brought her amidst the morning post, spoke to Snape briefly got to her feet, the letter in her hand as Snape wrote something on the parchment once, and then a second time beneath the first. Eyes followed Irma's movements, and even though she was only a second year, even fourth year girls looked rather intimidated as she sashayed down the Slytherin table towards the first years; she had the same certain arrogance to her walk as Zabini. A third year boy moved down a seat at Irma's long-nailed hand gesture and she sat down with careless grace beside her brother.

"Noi restiamo qui per Natale." She said to her brother. "Madre ha una nuova conquista."

"Come piacevole." Zabini answered dryly. "Sette figure?"

"Nove." Irma replied, nodding as Zabini's eyebrows rose slightly. "E che stanno andando alle Bahamas per Natale quindi siamo a firmare per rimanere." She handed him the letter. Zabini's eyes skimmed over the parchment.

"…Piacere di essere invitati." He remarked wryly, handing it back.

Irma laughed, tucking the letter into the pocket of her robes. "Sì." She grinned. "Ci vediamo dopo, caro fratello."

"Arrivederci." Zabini replied offhandedly, turning back to his breakfast as Irma got up and glided back to her seat, waving carelessly at several third years who called her as she passed.

Nott looked at Zabini, who was staring at the toast on his plate emotionlessly. "I understood Mother; nine figures; and Bahamas." He said. "Are you going to the Bahamas?"

"My mother is." Zabini replied shortly.

"Ah." Nott nodded his understanding.

Moments later, Snape approached the first years, quill and parchment in hand. "If any of you are planning on staying at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays tell me now so I can add your name to this list." He said, nodding towards the parchment. "Zabini, your sister already signed you up."

"Yes sir." Zabini nodded, as expressionless as ever.

"I'm planning on staying sir." Nott spoke up, half-raising his hand. Rachel started inwardly as Zabini's expressionless mask slipped and for the first time, she saw that an emotion on his face that was not scorn, dislike, alarm or smugness- there was genuine surprise on his face as he stared at Nott.

Snape nodded curtly. "Anyone else?" he asked, writing down Nott's name; moving down the table as the other first years shook their heads.

"You don't have to stay because I am." Zabini muttered under his breath to Nott. "Aunt Artmeis-"

"Will understand." Nott interrupted firmly. "Besides If I don't stay you and Irma will end up killing each other." He finished, pouring himself some more pumpkin juice.

Zabini bit into a piece of toast, saying nothing, but something flickered through his eyes in the same fashion as had occurred on Halloween. Nott grinned.

"You're welcome," he said, "and you can repay me by actually smiling. It's healthy, you know."

Zabini rolled his eyes.

The following week, the staff and students of Hogwarts awoke to find the castle coated in numerous feet of crisp white snow. The Black Lake had, to Rachel's slight relief, frozen solid. The couple of owls that succeeded in battling their way through the thundery sky to bring post to their owners had to be helped back to full health by Hagrid before they were capable of flying away again; and that afternoon Weasley twins of Gryffindor got into trouble were punished for charm several snowballs to follow Professor Quirrell around and bounce back and forth off the back of his purple turban.

Everyone was looking forwards to the start of the holidays. While the Slytherin dormitories, common room and the Great Hall were warmed by heaters and roaring fires respectively; the corridors of the castle were now icy cold and a bitter, sharp wind rattled many of the classrooms' windows. The worst class of all was Potions- outside of the common room and dormitories, the dungeons were so cold students could see their breath when they breathed and thus they huddled as close as they could to their hot, bubbling cauldrons without getting burnt.

"I feel so very sorry," said Draco said, during their last Potions lesson of the term, "for everyone who has to stay here at Hogwarts over Christmas because they aren't wanted at their homes."

He was looking over at Harry Potter as he spoke. Vincent and Gregory chuckled. Bitter over Slytherin's defeat at Quidditch, Draco had kept up his joke about Potter being replaced by a wide-mouthed tree frog for a while in the hopes of getting a laugh, but when everyone continued to be impressed by the the way Potter had caught the Snitch Draco had become jealous and angry and reverted to taunting Potter about his having no Mother or father. Potter, who the Slytherins had seen have his name added to the list of students staying when Professor McGonagall brought the list down the Gryffindor table, ignored him; continuing to measure out his powdered lion fish.

"Shut up Malfoy." Zabini said coolly so only the Slytherins could hear, picking up a lion fish to crush into a powder.

"Or what?" Draco challenged; Vincent and Gregory cracked their knuckles threateningly.

But Zabini didn't look remotely perturbed; on the contrary, his expression grew even colder. "Or I will shove this lionfish spine up your-"

" _Snape."_ Nott coughed into his hand. Zabini fell silent abruptly as Snape approached and started to check their work, but glared at Draco so vey fiercely and threateningly that his point was clear.

Draco shut up.

So cold was it that Rachel, Millicent and Pansy decided to go and get their scarves from their dormitories before going to Transfiguration after Potions. By the time they emerged from the dungeons a great many pine needles were scattered all over the Entrance Hall and they could see through the open doors of the Great Hall that it was almost finished being decorated.

The room looked magnificent. Garlands of holly and mistletoe were hanging all around the walls, and a dozen Christmas trees towered all around the Hall, some of them glittering with miniature icicles, others sparkling with hundred upon hundreds of lit candles. Rachel couldn't help but smile at the sight; by far her favourite thing about Christmastime was all the decorations, especially the lights. She loved how beautiful and cozy always they looked, draped around anything from trees, bushes and lampposts, to banisters, houses and shops; and even had a string of magically operated lights she hung around her bedroom window every Christmas.

As she looked around the Great Hall, Rachel half-wished she was staying at Hogwarts for Christmas; and not only because of the decorations. Despite Marcus trying to comfort her time and time again; saying that he would be there and would help her with their family all he could, the radio silence from their parents was making Rachel feel very nervous indeed about going back home for the holidays.

"Rachel?" Pansy's voice called Rachel from her thoughts; and Rachel realised that she had stopped in the middle of the Entrance Hall, while Pansy and Millicent had kept walking to the bottom of the Grand staircase. "Are you coming?"

"Oh, yeah." Rachel smiled sheepishly, hurrying to catch up with them.

"Are you okay?" Pansy asked her.

"Yeah," Rachel nodded unconvincingly, straightening her headband. "Just, you know, thinking about going home for Christmas."

Pansy grimaced sympathetically. "You'll be okay; they'll accept you." She said. Millicent nodded. The two girls had been present for a couple of Marcus's attempts to comfort Rachel and knew all about her fears.

Rachel managed a smile. "I hope so." She said.

But truth be told, the more she thought about it, the more she wished she could stay at Hogwarts, even if it meant she had to see Zabini. At least she knew where she stood with him.

"Hey," Pansy squeezed Rachel's arm comfortingly, reading her expression. "Millicent always comes to my house for a few days after Boxing Day; you're welcome to come as well. My parents will want to meet yours first, but they'll be happy to have you stay too, if you want too; they always say I can have any friends I want over."

"They really do." Millicent confirmed. "You should come; It'll be a laugh."

"I'd love to." Rachel nodded. "Yeah, that would be amazing; thank you."

"What are friends for?" Pansy said with a grin and the three girls continued on their way to Transfiguration.

* * *

Two days later, Rachel sat with Pansy and Millicent in a compartment on the Hogwarts' Express, feeling, rather fittingly, as though a pit of snakes was swirling around inside her stomach. Pansy and Millicent were wrapping the Christmas presents they had bought for their families via the Owl Order section of the Daily Prophet during the last week of term. Rachel tried to do the same but gave up after a few minutes: finding she simply couldn't concentrate on anything other than the thought of seeing her parents since her Sorting.

Just as Pansy finished wrapping her last gift, a book on fortune telling for her cousin Sebastian, the train pulled into platform nine and three-quarters. Rachel felt so nervous she thought she might be sick, and as she got to her feet and pulled her trunk and Artemisia in her cage down from the luggage racks, Rachel couldn't bring herself to look out of the compartment window, lest she caught sight of her parents.

Pansy and Millicent seemed to catch on to how she was feeling, for once Millicent took down her trunk and her black cat Ryan in his cat carrier and Pansy her trunk and her Barred Owl, Miranda, in her cage, the two girls bookended Rachel as they all left their compartment and joined the crowd of students walking down the corridor of the carriage outside to the doors that would take them onto the platform. They did, too, stick close to her when they jumped down onto the platform and found trolleys for their luggage; returning her grateful smile with comforting, reassuring ones.

"Rachel." Marcus approached her, pushing a trolley his trunk with Newt in his cage atop it. "Oliver's just left and I've just caught sight of Mum; she's over by the archway. I thought we could go over together." He made a face that was halfway between a smile and a grimace.

Rachel's stomach tightened nervously. "Yeah." She agreed, trying to smile back, but it, too, felt like more like a grimace.

"I'll find my parents, so ours can meet about Christmas." Pansy said.

Rachel nodded. "I'll ask my mother to wait." She replied. The closer she got to actually seeing her parents the more nervous she felt. Taking a deep breath, she redoubled her grip on her trunk and Artemisia's cage and followed Marcus into the crowd of students and parents across the platform.

Her mother was indeed standing near the wrought iron archway that was the barrier between the wizarding train station and the Muggle world. She was looking around her, and Rachel couldn't help but fall back discreetly so that she would see Marcus first.

And that she did. Rachel saw her mother's gaze land on Marcus; her eyes lighting up happily as she raised her hand and waved.

"Hi Mum," Marcus said, permitting his mother to give him a brief hug as he and Rachel reached her.

"Marcus!" Susanne smiled. "How are you?"

"I'm good," Marcus replied, smiling back. "How're you?" he asked as they let go.

"Oh, I'm fine." Susanne replied dismissively. "Your father's at work; but he's looking forward to seeing you tonight at dinner." Her gaze passed over Marcus's right shoulder as she spoke, dropped slightly and landed on Rachel. The happiness in her eyes diminished rather noticeably, and her expression hardened. Rachel's throat tightened.

"H-hi, Mum." She managed, trying to smile.

"Hello, Rachel." Susanne smiled back tightly, though it looked rather forced.

Nevertheless, Rachel let go of her trunk and Artemisia's cage and stepped forwards awkwardly, holding out her arms to hug her mother. But when her mother hugged her back, her arms were rigid around her and she only held on for a moment or so before she let go and stepped back. Rachel fell back into step beside Marcus, biting the inside of her lip and staring at her shoes as her throat tightened more than ever.

Marcus cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Shall- shall we go then?" he asked, gesturing to the archway beside them through which a steady stream of families were passing.

"Actually," Rachel began, looking around her for Pansy. "Mum- my friend Pansy has invited me to stay at her house with another one of our friends for a few days after Boxing Day; she says her parents will be happy to have me but they'll want to meet you first; and they're here today- Pansy said she was going to find them so you could meet; do you think we could wait for a few moments, please?"

Susanne hesitated.

"Rachel!" Pansy burst out of the crowd around them, out of breath and dragging a tall, thin woman with the same wavy brown hair as her and a man with her green eyes and her luggage on its trolley behind her. Millicent followed with her own trolley; a short, plump woman with platinum blonde hair and her china blue eyes at her heels. "Oh, thank Merlin I thought you'd left." Pansy exhaled, practically skidding to a halt before the three Belbys, catching her breath her those accompanying her paused behind her. "Rachel- this is my mother Isabella, and my father Michael," Pansy said, gesturing to the man and woman on either side of her in turn. "Parents, this is Rachel Belby, who, as I've told you, I've invited to stay with us when Millicent does after Boxing Day; her brother Marcus; and her mother-" she paused, glancing questioningly at Rachel.

"Susanne." Rachel supplied.

"Susanne." Pansy concluded.

"And this is my mother, Emma." Millicent added, gesturing to the woman beside her, who smiled.

"It's wonderful to meet you all." Isabella Parkinson said to the three Belbys, holding out her hand to Susanne. Rather bizarrely for December she was wearing a great number of thin, flowery scarves around her neck and a simply enormous white, wide-brimmed floppy summer hat. "I don't know if you remember me," Isabella went on as Susanne shook her hand, "but I was in the year below you at Hogwarts- we were in different houses, but you helped me find a book in the library in my first year at Hogwarts and I was _so_ grateful. My husband and I would be happy to have Rachel stay with us for a few days after Boxing Day- Millicent does so every year, and we live in a big Manor in Oxfordshire, with have a great many bedrooms and a full staff of House-Elves so it really wouldn't be any trouble at all to have her; that is if it's okay with you?"

Susanne visibly hesitated again, her gaze flickering from Isabella Parkinson to Pansy, to her father; to Millicent to Millicent's mother to Rachel. Her gaze paused for a moment on Millicent's Slytherin scarf that was peeking out from beneath the collar of her coat and the corners of her mouth turned down. Rachel's heart sank down to her shoes. She knew what her mother was thinking: ' _Slytherins'_ with every ounce of disparage that could possibly be squeezed into the syllables of the word _._

But she, Rachel, her daughter, was a Slytherin, too… Rachel stared at her mother imploringly, hoping that she would agree and let her stay with Pansy for a few days like Millicent; but as she did so a thought arose in the back of mind: one that wondered if her mother would have hesitated as she was if she, Rachel, was in Ravenclaw. Rachel pushed the thought away, knowing the answer was no.

Susanne looked from Millicent's scarf to Isabella and Michael Parkinson's and Emma Bulstrode's friendly smiles to Rachel's imploring, hopeful expression and back again. She looked conflicted for a moment, then as though she had to swallow a particularly nasty mouthful of medicine; then, at last, she forced a smile that did not reach her eyes.

"Yes, it's fine." She said politely, though her voice was rather stiff. "I'm sure the three girls will have a lovely time."

"Wonderful!" Isabella Parkinson beamed; Rachel, Pansy and Millicent grinned excitedly, delighted. "We will write nearer the time with the details; though I assume the girls will write before then."

"'Course." Pansy smiled nodding; Rachel and Millicent did the same.

"I'm sure they will." Susanne said, forcing smiling once again rather forcedly. "Well, we really should get going…" she said, glancing slightly desperately towards the archway nearby.

"Oh, yes, of course- us, too." Isabella replied. "It was nice meeting you, Susanne."

"Yes," Susanne replied tightly. "You too."

Pansy, Millicent and Rachel said their goodbyes, too, and then the Belby family left platform nine and three- quarters. Susanne lead the way, her back straight and lips pinched as though the taste of the nasty medicine was still fresh in her mouth.

"Thank you, Mum," Rachel said rather timidly as they made their way through Kings Cross station, she and Marcus pushing their trolleys, "for saying I can go, I mean."

Susanne said nothing, her shoulders tensed slightly.

Rachel stared at her mother's back for a moment, her throat tightening considerably once again. It was obvious that her mother was not happy about letting her go and stay with Pansy- it was obvious that her mother was not very happy with her, if the way she had hugged her was any indication. But her mother had had the option to refuse to let her go; but she hadn't. Rachel bit the inside of her lip, confused and uncertain. Why had her mother agreed to let her go, when she clearly wasn't happy about it, or with her, Rachel herself?

Moments later, the Belbys reached the road outside Kings Cross Station. Several Muggle taxis and various cars were rotating around in front of it, Muggles and Magical folk alike clambering in and out of them. Susanne led Marcus and Rachel over to a dark green Muggle five seater car- a car identical to the Ministry of Magic car that had taken them to the station at the start of term. It turned out to be a Ministry of Magic car, driven by a woman in a dark green suit who introduced herself as Silvia Kettleburn.

Rachel took a deep inward breath as she and Marcus climbed into the backseat of the car with Artemisia and Newt in their cages, their trunks having been loaded into the boot of the car and their trolleys returned to the station. She may be allowed to go and stay with Pansy for a few days after Boxing Day, but there was still a week to go before then. At present, Rachel was facing a whirlwind of rather nerve-wracking uncertainty; for she did not know for certain how her family was going to treat her now and for the rest of her life, now that she was not a Ravenclaw. Her mother had agreed to let her stay with her friend, yes, but clearly she was not happy about it and Rachel couldn't imagine her father being any more accepting; to say nothing of her Grandmother; nor really her Aunt Sophia, Uncle Elijah or cousin Mary for they, too, were big on Ravenclaw pride. One thing she did know for certain, however, was that one way or another she was going to find out.

For inescapably, she was going home for Christmas.

 **A/N: Please review! :)**


	12. AreThesetheShadowsoftheThingsthatWillBe?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else that may be referenced in this chapter**

 **A/N: Enormous thank you to you all. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)**

 **Twitter: Prof_McGonagal**

 **Chapter 12: Are These the Shadows of the Things that Will Be?**

The journey to Heathgate, Hampstead was passed almost entirely in silence. That is, Marcus and Rachel sat side by side in silence while Susanne exchanged polite small talk with Silvia Kettleburn; the latter being full of anecdotes from her summer holiday trip to the Amazon Basin with her uncle, who was, apparently, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts.

"… and then, would you believe it, my Uncle Silvanus waves his wand and accidently re-lit the Salamander fire!" Silvia finished with a laugh as she turned the car into Jude Street. "We only just managed to escape before the Salamander realised!"

Susanne looked rather alarmed at the very thought. "Well… you've certainly had some adventures!" she replied airily as Silva slowed the car to a stop outside the Belby's house and put the car in park. "You could turn them into a book."

"I hope too, one day." Silvia nodded with a smile, pulling up the handbrake. "Shall I help you with your luggage?"

Some twenty minutes later, Rachel stood alongside her trunk and Artemisia in her cage in the middle of her bedroom, looking all around her. She knew every inch of it like she did no other room- it was the same bedroom she'd slept in ever since she was a baby; but now… now it felt strange.

Rachel looked around her bedroom, taking in the royal blue walls; the light bronze-coloured curtains that framed the window; the small round wooden table painted bronze in the corner of the room, to the left of the window that normally held Artemisia's cage; the wooden wardrobe with drawers painted bronze directly opposite her bronze-painted-framed double bed, to the right of her bedroom door; her two bronze painted wooden bedside tables bookending her bed covered with light blue bedclothes; her bookshelf of the same wooden material and colour as her bedside tables that stood against the wall directly opposite her bedroom window. Then her gaze travelled to her plain wooden desk standing little way to the right of her bookshelf; then her corkboard with her Weird Sisters calendar- which still showed the month of August- and finally to her mother's old Ravenclaw scarf, still clumsily stuck to the wall with Spello-tape. The room was, too, slightly musty; but that was not all that was strange, and thus Rachel tried not to pay much mind to that as she looked and at everything yet again…

… It as though it was someone else's bedroom; someone she'd been known well, but hadn't seen for years…

… And that was exactly what it was, in a sense, Rachel realised with a small, inward start. It had only been four months since she had been there last, but so much had changed that she felt as though her bedroom wasn't hers anymore… Rachel bit her lip and stared determinedly at the table that housed Artemisia's cage, willing herself to stay calm as a slight lump rose in her throat and small tears welled in the corners of her eyes.

She was relatively happy to be in Slytherin- she had made friends; was only failing one of her classes; and was slowly coming to terms with the fact that she was different from the rest of her family; but standing in her childhood bedroom, feeling as though none it was hers, made it hard to avoid the return of the sickeningly swirl of uncertainty that had swamped her during her first night and part of her first morning at Hogwarts.

"Your bedroom hasn't changed that much, surely?"

Rachel turned around. Marcus was leaning against the frame of her open door, eyeing her shrewdly.

"No; not at all," Rachel replied; wincing inwardly as her voice rose an octave in her efforts to control her upset at her feelings of uncertainty.

Marcus's brow furrowed. "What's wrong?" he asked, advancing further into the room.

"Nothing." Rachel shook her head, not wanting to sound silly.

"Liar." Marcus said, raising is eyebrows at her.

"It's silly." Rachel muttered, dropping her gaze to her feet.

"Regardless it's still upset you." Marcus said. "Come on- I'm your brother, I'm supposed to look out for you and cheer you up and whatnot- and look, whatever it is I _promise_ I won't laugh."

Rachel hesitated slightly. "… I... I don't feel like my bedroom is mine anymore." She admitted.

Marcus frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Look around." Rachel said, gesturing around them. "Blue walls; light blue bedclothes; bronze furniture; Ravenclaw scarf- it's not me. I'm not a Ravenclaw; I don't see myself as one, or in this room anymore- and this is my _bedroom_ ; in my _home._ " The tears nestling in the corners of her eyes spilled from her eyelids as she spoke and Rachel wiped them away harshly, angry at herself.

"Hey; we can change your room." Marcus said comfortingly, squeezing her shoulder. "Take the scarf down and get some paint or have Ceesy change the colours."

"You really think Mum and Dad are going to let me get rid of all the Ravenclaw stuff in here?" Rachel asked doubtfully. "Your bedroom furniture may be black, but your walls are dark blue."

"But _you're_ in Slytherin; you shouldn't have to have your room decorated in the colours of a house you're not in." Marcus pointed out, sitting down on the end of Rachel's bed. "And besides, you can't do that much more harm than what has already been caused by just asking Mum and Dad."

"You sure about that?" Rachel asked doubtfully, pushing her glasses up her nose.

"Not entirely," Marcus answered honestly, grimacing sympathetically as Rachel groaned and slumped down beside him. He looked around the room as she did so and frowned slightly. "… Does it smell kind of musty in here or is it just me?"

"No; it does," Rachel confirmed, nodding. "I haven't got round to opening the window yet." She got to her feet as she spoke, picking up Artemisia's cage and carrying it over to its table, frowning slightly as she set it down and opened the window. "… It's kind of dusty in here, too." She said, running her finger along the bottom of the window frame around the edge of Artemisia's table; frowning further as she drew her finger back and saw it to be covered in dark dust.

Marcus looked around, seeing that there was indeed a fine layer of dust over everything. "That's weird." He remarked, frowning, too. "My room's fine… Ceesy!"

 _CRACK!_

"Yes, Master Marcus?" Ceesy asked, Apparating into the room with a curtesy.

"Why is Rachel's room all musty and dust-overed?" Marcus asked.

Ceesy hesitated. "… Master Flavius and Mistress Susanne have ordered that Ceesy is only to hoover the carpet in here and clean the glass in the window; nothing else." She answered after a moment.

"What?" Rachel asked, staring at Ceesy. "Since when?"

"Since the eighth of September, Mistress." Ceesy answered. Rachel glanced at Marcus knowing he was doing the same calculations she was. She had sent her parents the letter telling them of her being Sorted into Slytherin on the morning of the first Saturday of term; the seventh of September- it would have taken Artemisia a day or so to fly to their house… so it stood to reason that her parents had ordered Ceesy to virtually leave Rachel's room alone after receiving her letter.

"Did Artemisia deliver a letter that day?" Rachel asked. "Maybe at breakfast, or a time before you were ordered not to clean my room?"

"Yes, Mistress," Ceesy nodded. "She was drinking a goblet of water on the dining room table when Ceesy was summoned to the dining room and told not to thoroughly clean in here anymore. Your father had a letter written in your handwriting on the table in front of him and your mother was standing over his left shoulder, as though she had just read the letter, too."

Rachel opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again, telling herself to stay calm as she felt tears start to well in the corners of her eyes again

"… Right," Rachel managed at last, gaining something of a hold on her emotions. "Thank you Ceesy, you can go."

"Yes Mistress." Ceesy curtseyed and Disapparated.

Rachel looked at Marcus. "…Well," she said, trying to laugh and make light of things. "Looks like I'll have to invest in a feather duster."

"Rachel…" Marcus began, but broke off, unsure of quite how to comfort her.

"It's fine." Rachel wiped her eyes again, and forced a smile, though her eyes felt overly bright.

"No it's not fine; it's not right." Marcus shook his head vehemently, standing up. "Look, I'll talk to Mum and Dad- try and get them to go easy on you; they don't have to be happy with your Sorting, but you're not Dorothy Belby, you shouldn't be treated like this- and you'd think after two hundred and fifty years our family would have evolved somewhat."

"Well, you're standing here talking to me so clearly we have a little bit." Rachel pointed out. "And there's no point talking to Mum and Dad. They didn't mention me when they wrote back to the letter you wrote to them asking if they received my letter; they intended for me to receive much less for Halloween than you; and you must've seen how sour-faced Mum was about agreeing to let me go and stay with Pansy after Christmas-"

"Yeah, but she did agree," Marcus interrupted. "Why would she do that if she wasn't prepared to be open-minded?"

"I don't know." Rachel answered, pausing to consider the matter properly. "…Maybe she thought that she had to, because we both know that if _you'd_ asked to stay with people- people who weren't Oliver, I mean- from _your_ House for a few days after Christmas she would have no problem accepting."

Marcus bit the inside of his lip. "Good point." He acknowledged. "But you're not Dorothy Belby-"

"No," Rachel interrupted him this time, shaking her head. "…But you have to admit that there is a slight chance that I might be seen as even less than her."

"What makes you say that?" Marcus asked, frowning once again.

"Dorothy was in Gryffindor." Rachel pointed out, straightening her headband. "Disregarding the occasional association with recklessness and arrogance and short-temperedness, the main traits associated with and certainly emphasised by Gryffindor House are bravery, chivalry, nerve and daring. Generally speaking, Gryffindors are known to be brave, noble people- good people. Slytherins on the other hand, to put it briefly, are generally associated with Dark wizards- bad people."

"But you're not a bad person." Marcus countered.

"You know what I mean." Rachel said, pushing her glasses up her nose and folding her arms.

Marcus sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I do." He admitted. "And it sucks- though on that note I stand by my words that you can't do that much more harm by just asking Mum and Dad about your room. The family as a whole can't hate you any more than they will if it turns out they think you're are a Dark wizard in training thanks to your Sorting; but even if they don't, it won't make much difference, because you know as well as I do that they're already going to think less of you because you're not in Ravenclaw, so either way you can't do that much more harm by just asking about your room."

Rachel bit the inside of her lip: Marcus had a point. "… Merlin, I can't believe we're having this conversation." She breathed, half-laughing in her incredulity. "Talking about our family hating me because I'm not in Ravenclaw. It's inevitable I know, but all the same…" she trailed off, not really wanting to finish the thought aloud.

"Yeah," Marcus nodded his understanding. "It's mental…" he trailed off, too; and the two siblings fell into a reflective yet companionable silence.

Suddenly, a door slammed downstairs and the sounds of Susanne greeting Flavius echoed up to the second floor, followed by a murmur from Ceesy and then the loud _crack!_ of Disapparition.

 _CRACK!_

"Master Marcus; Mistress Rachel," Ceesy murmured, Apparating back into Rachel's bedroom with a curtsey. "Dinner is ready."

Rachel and Marcus looked at each other.

"… Thank you Ceesy." Marcus said after a moment. "We'll be right down."

"Yes, sir." Ceesy curtseyed and Disapparated.

"Can you go first, please?" Rachel asked Marcus, looking at him imploringly.

Marcus nodded understandingly. "Sure." He agreed. Rachel smiled gratefully and followed him from her bedroom, feeling her nerves start to rise again as she followed Marcus down the stairs and across the foyer to the dining room. This was the first time she would see her father after her being Sorted into Slytherin, and he was rather more house-proud than her mother.

"Hey, Dad." Marcus said, smiling as he and Rachel entered the dining room.

"Marcus!" Flavius got to his feet from his seat at the head of the table, grinning broadly. He was still wearing the black robes of the International Confederation of Wizards. "How are you?" he asked, pulling Marcus into a hug. He took absolutely no notice of Rachel, not even glancing in her direction.

"Yeah, good." Marcus replied, hugging Flavius back before sitting down at the dining table. Flavius sat back down, too.

"… Hi Dad," Rachel said after a moment, looking at him. Flavius glanced up at her, but made no move to get up and hug her as he had Marcus.

"Hello." He said curtly, turning to the plate of bread rolls Ceesy placed on the table seconds later. Rachel sank down into the seat beside Marcus, picking up the salad bowl as her mother finished with it and spooning some onto her plate, though her appetite was rather diminished.

Several moments passed in a stony, uncomfortable silence, before Flavius cleared his throat. "So, Marcus, how was your term?"

"Yes," Susanne swallowed a mouthful of elderflower wine. "Do tell us about that."

"Er- it was okay…" Looking rather uncomfortable, Marcus started to tell tale of his lessons; answering Flavius and Susanne's questions, too. He kept trying to draw Rachel into the conversation, too, asking her opinions on the teachers and lessons at Hogwarts, but their parents scarcely seemed to listen to or care about what she said- indeed, Rachel scarcely finished speaking before one of her parents spoke, drawing the conversation back to Marcus.

Soon enough, Rachel was shaking slightly in her seat, fighting back tears of anger and upset with all her might; her hands clenched so tightly around her knife and fork her knuckles were white. _'I'm still your daughter!'_ she wanted to scream at her parents. _'You KNOW me! I'm the same person I've always been! PLEASE STOP TREATING ME LIKE THIS JUST BECAUSE I'M NOT IN RAVENCLAW!'_ But she didn't, not wanting to make things any worse between them.

Later that night, Rachel closed the door to her bedroom, closing her eyes and letting out a sigh of relief as she did so. Her parents and Marcus were still downstairs; listening to the Wizarding Wireless Network on the radio, but the stony, uncomfortable silence that had fallen between her and her parents had made Rachel not want to be in their company any more than she had to, so not long after dinner she had said that she was tired and was going to go to bed; an announcement that was met with a 'goodnight' from Marcus and ignored by her parents. Rachel had said goodnight to them anyway and then hurried from the room, willing herself not to burst into tears. Only once she was in bed with one of her favourite books, _Artemisia Lufkin: A Revolutionary_ by Bathilda Bagshot, did Rachel look around her bedroom at the dark blue walls; the Ravenclaw scarf above her corkboard; the dust she had yet to remove from all of her furniture, and unbidden, thoughts of her parents attitude towards her since she had gotten off the train earlier that day and all at once Rachel's emotions overtook her, and her back hunching up into a wall amidst her bedclothes, Rachel curled around her book and burst into silent, choking tears; tears that caught in her throat, fogged up her glasses and streamed down her cheeks, soaking the pages of her book. Rachel's shoulders shook as she cried harder than ever, more and more tears streaming from her eyes, and, surrendering to her emotions, Rachel removed her glasses, half-threw them down onto her bedside table, and sank down deeper into her bed. Still wrapped around her book, she clung to her bed sheets and cried and cried, until she fell asleep.

* * *

When Rachel awoke the following morning, her eyes were stiff and dry from crying, her cheeks were stained with tear-tracks and the corner of her book was pressing painfully into her stomach. Sitting up in bed, Rachel pulled her book away from her; found her glasses in the area she had thrown them the night before, wiped them clean of the tear streaks she knew to be there on her bed sheet and slid them onto the end of her nose, trying to regain a sense of normality. Her vision restored, Rachel glanced at her clock and saw it was half-past six in the morning. Feeling she wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep, Rachel got out of bed and picked up her book, returning it to her bookshelf before leaving her room and padding softly across the hall to the bathroom.

Entering the room, Rachel turned on the light and closed the door behind her. Crossing to the sink, Rachel turned on the cold tap, waiting for the water to fall from the tap before taking off her glasses, setting them to one side and cupping her hands beneath the water, waiting for them to fill before splashing the water onto her face.

The cold water was soothing on her dry, irritated eyes and the rest of her face as a whole. Feeling a little bit better, Rachel fumbled for a towel on the rack beside the sink and dried her face, finding her glasses a few minutes later. Pushing her glasses back onto her nose, Rachel leant against the sink and looked at her reflection in the glass. Her hair stuck up at all angles as it tended to do in the mornings and she was slightly pale and puffy-red eyed from sleeping and crying. Rachel bit the inside of her lip and thought over everything that had made her cry the night before.

... She very much doubted that she could change her parents' minds with regards to their attitudes towards her being in Slytherin and by extension her herself, but she could redecorate her bedroom, as Marcus had said, provided that she had her parents' permission. That wouldn't be the easiest thing to obtain, admittedly, but after experiencing her parents' new attitudes towards her last night, Rachel agreed with Marcus: she could not do that much more harm by just asking.

So once she had showered, dressed and made sure Artemisia's cage door was open and that her owl had enough food and water for the day, Rachel ran downstairs intent on asking her parents for permission after breakfast.

When she reached the foyer, however, Rachel was distracted by the sight of Ceesy humming peacefully under her breath and decorating the house for Christmas; which had been a family tradition ever since Rachel and Marcus had accidently set fire to the Christmas tree with accidental magic during an argument over the who got to switch the lights on once they had decorated it when they were eight and nice respectively.

"Good morning Mistress Rachel," Ceesy said, catching sight of her. "Ceesy has laid out a variety of drinks, cereals and a full toast rack and toppings in the dining room and more hot foods will be ready shortly- that is, unless Miss would prefer something hot now?"

"Good morning Ceesy- and no thank you; cereals and toast will be fine." Rachel smiled. Ceesy smiled back.

"Yes, Mistress," she curtseyed respectfully and returned to decorating.

Rachel couldn't help but smile as she watched Ceesy work. With every snap of Ceesy's fingers another garland appeared around the banisters and strings of lights around the inside of the windows. Crossing to the foyer to the open door to the sitting room, Rachel looked around the frame and smiled. A large Christmas tree covered in white lights, bronze tinsel and golden baubles with a simple gold star on top. Rachel's smile wavered slightly as she noticed the definitive Ravenclaw appearance to the tree- it had been decorated as such for years, yes, but now that she was officially not a Ravenclaw, Rachel couldn't help but feel slightly left out; however childish that may be.

But the sight of the Christmas tree reminded Rachel of her intentions to ask her parents if she could redecorate her bedroom, and turning on her heel, Rachel walked down the foyer to the dining room.

She was halfway through a bowl of Frosted Mini-Wheats and strawberries when Marcus entered the room, rather bleary eyed but fully dressed.

"Morning." He said, throwing himself into the seat opposite her and pulling the toast rack towards him, practically throwing two pieces of toast onto his plate and spreading marmalade across them at record speed.

"Morning." Rachel replied, watching as Marcus started to shovel the toast into his mouth like he was afraid it was going to disappear if he didn't eat them quickly. "You're up early for a Saturday."

"So are you." Marcus pointed out, his voice slightly muffled by the amount of toast in his mouth.

"Didn't have the best nights sleep." Rachel muttered, having another spoonful of cereal; Marcus continued to wolf down the toast as though his life depended on it. "…Why're you eating so fast?" Rachel asked curiously after a moment.

"I-" Marcus paused to swallow a mouthful of toast. "I want to avoid Mum and Dad." He said. "I had a bit of a disagreement with them last night- after you went to bed."

"Really?" Rachel stared at him. "What about?"

Marcus poured himself a glass of apple juice rather sloppily, hesitating slightly at Rachel's words as he did so. "…It wasn't right how they ignored you last night," he said after a moment, "and I told them that they shouldn't treat you the way they are; that with all our Ravenclaw pride and intelligence our family should have figured out how to evolve members of other houses into our family over the two hundred and fifty years it's been that Dorothy's been Sorted outside of Ravenclaw."

"Yikes." Rachel raised her eyebrows, pouring herself a glass of apple juice and taking a sip. "That was brave of you; and thank you- but I bet Mum and Dad didn't like that very much."

"No," Marcus confirmed shaking his head. "No- No they didn't. They got a bit sort of shirty with me, actually."

"Really?" Rachel paused, her spoon hovering in midair in her hand, forgotten. "What did they say?"

"It- er- it wasn't very nice." Marcus muttered evasively, but something in the way he avoided the question and her eye made Rachel wonder if she had been mentioned in whatever their parents had said; Marcus had stood up for her after all.

"What did they say?" She asked again, making her tone light and mildly interested, hoping that the casualness of it would prompt Marcus to tell her. "... If you're worried about telling me you don't have to be," she added as Marcus looked conflicted. "I won't get upset."

"You will." Marcus countered.

"Tell me." Rachel said, placing emphasis on the calmness in her tone. "Please. I'll wonder for the rest of my life if you don't."

"Can't you just be content with the knowledge that it was mean and I'm trying to protect your feelings?" Marcus snapped at her, irritated.

' _Ah,'_ Rachel thought with a brief flash of triumph. _'So I was mentioned.'_

"No." she said aloud, shaking her head.

Marcus sighed. "They said that I don't know what I'm talking about," he said. "That the fact that you've been Sorted into Slytherin when we all thought that you would be in Ravenclaw means that we don't really know who you are, something that you've clearly recognised and started to use to your advantage because you've manipulated me into standing by you- something that is evidenced by my writing to them or your behalf and standing up to them just then; and that the best thing- the cleverest- for me to do is to distance myself from you, something they themselves plan to do." He finished, grimacing.

Rachel stared at him. "W-what?" she stammered, her mind reeling.

"Please don't make me say it again," Marcus said, taking another bite of toast. "So I'm trying to each quickly so I can go round Oliver's and avoid them for a bit- let the waters cool, you know?"

"Yeah," Rachel nodded, her forgotten spoonful of breakfast remaining so as her mind whirled.

… Her parents, then, in a nutshell, agreed with Terry and Lisa. They didn't trust her because of her Sorting, and, however hard she thought, Rachel couldn't see how she could convince them otherwise: they would just think she was lying; trying to manipulate them as they thought she was doing to Marcus. How they, the people who had raised her; who were supposed to know her better than she knew herself could think that, Rachel didn't know; and the thought made her throat tighten uncomfortably, but with an enormous effort, Rachel forced it to clear. She was done with crying: like the portrait of Merlin said in the common room on her first day at Hogwarts, what she needed to do was find a way to adapt, and that was what she was going to do; starting by redecorating her bedroom.

"I'm going to Oliver's," Marcus said, standing up and drawing Rachel from her thoughts. "Hey- d'you want to come; avoid Mum and Dad?" he asked. "I know that you and Terry and Lisa aren't friends anymore but you don't have to hang out with Terry."

"Thanks, but no," Rachel said, shaking her head. "I actually want to talk to Mum and Dad this morning- I'm going to ask if I can redecorate my bedroom."

Marcus's eyebrows rose as he looked slightly impressed. "That's brave of you." He said with a grin. "Good luck."

"Thanks." Rachel grinned back, turning back to her breakfast as Marcus left the dinning room. Rachel heard him call out where he was going to Ceesy, then she heard the front door open and close again. Not wanting to have breakfast with her parents without Marcus, Rachel hastened to finish her breakfast, getting to her feet the moment she had done so and hurrying upstairs. She could hear the sounds of her parents moving around their bedroom getting ready for the day when she reached the top of the stairs and she hastened into her bedroom, closing the door behind her and pulling her copy of _Artemisia Lufkin: A Revolutionary_ from her bookshelf once again, intending to read and plan what she was going to say until her parents were in the dining room, so that she could duck in, ask permission, receive an answer and then leave, whether it be to redecorate or try to get over her disappointment.

Some fifteen minutes later, Rachel heard the sound of footsteps walking down the stairs on the other side of her bedroom door. Five minutes later, Rachel assumed her parents had had time to start on breakfast, steeled her resolve set her book aside and got to her feet, leaving her bedroom and walking as quietly as she could down the stairs to buy herself more time.

She paused just short of the door to the dining room, reaching to straighten her headband; smooth down her Weird Sisters jumper and retie her undone shoelace, wanting to make sure she looked as presentable as possible.

When she was as neat and tidy as she could be in her rather nervous state, Rachel took several deep, inward breaths and started to cross the remainder of floor space between her and the door to the dining room. It occurred to her briefly how ridiculous it was for her to be nervous about asking her parents permission for something; but then she remembered she was asking two of the most Ravenclaw-proud people she knew if she could de-Ravenclaw her bedroom, her nerves increased tenfold and she rather thought that she was not being ridiculous at all.

Rachel took one last inward breath as she reached the threshold of the dining room before stepping over it and looking around. Her parents sat at the dining table, her father at the head, reading the Daily Prophet as usual; her mother beside him facing the door, reading the Quibbler with an expression of great amusement. Neither of them looked up as Rachel entered the room.

After a moment of lingering awkwardly by the door, Rachel cleared her throat. "Good morning Mum; Dad." She said politely.

Her father's hands clutched slightly on either side of his newspaper.

"Good morning." Her mother replied curtly, not looking up from her copy of _Witch Weekly_. Rachel felt a pang of hurt, but she pushed it away, telling herself to focus on what she wanted. But suddenly she found that she didn't want to be in her parent's company any longer than she had to be.

"Please may I redecorate my bedroom?" she asked, speaking rather quickly. "I've been thinking and as nice as the colours are I don't feel as though I relate to them anymore."

Flavius and Susanne looked up from their respective reading materials to each other. A silent conversation seemed to pass between them. Rachel waited, holding her breath slightly. Finally, her father turned to look at her, though there was no warmth in his expression.

"You may decorate your bedroom whichever way you like- have Ceesy assist you in doing so." He said curtly. "However, you are not to change the outside of the door, and though she will still attend to your clothes, you are not to expect Ceesy to dust or tidy up after you and your door is to be kept closed when you are not inside or home, and when you are inside it is to be either ajar or closed at all times. Is that clear?"

Rachel paused for a moment, thinking over what her father had said. She didn't have much of a choice in the matter she knew, but she wanted to be clear on what she was agreeing to, for lack of a better term, before she actually agreed. Her chin wobbled slightly as she thought everything over, but Rachel forced herself once again to stay calm, and after another moment's thought, she nodded.

"Yes." She said. "Thank you."

But her parents had turned back to their reading the moment they'd seen her nod. A lump rose in Rachel's throat and, telling herself to hold it together, she turned to go, tears springing to her eyes as she did so, despite her resolution to be done with crying.

She was on the threshold of the foyer when she turned around, unable to hold her tongue any longer.

"You _do_ know who I am." She said, her voice trembling in her upset despite herself. "You raised me. I may not be in Ravenclaw, I'm still your daughter."

Her parents said nothing, their gazes remaining fixed on their reading material.

Turning on her heel, Rachel left the room. The only sounds that followed her were the turnings of newspaper and magazine pages. Rachel wiped her eyes and went in search of Ceesy, her looking giving her time to recover her control over her emotions.

She was, she reminded herself comfortingly, finding ways to make things work.

* * *

"… Wow," Marcus's voice drew Rachel from her thoughts a little over an hour later. "This looks really nice. You got permission then?"

"Thank you; and yes I did." Rachel smiled, turning around. Marcus had poked his head around her door, which was a jar in line with her recent agreement with her parents. Rachel's bedroom did indeed, in her opinion at least, looked nicer, and she definitely felt much more comfortable. With several snaps of her fingers, Ceesy had turned all of Rachel's once bronze-painted furniture- Artemisia's wooden table; Rachel's wardrobe; her bed; her bedside tables; and her bookshelf a light cream colour, even doing the same to her plain wooden desk so that matched. Another snap of her fingers and Rachel's once blue bed sheets were a light sea green, and her bronze curtains a simple plain white. Rachel had, too, changed the month on her weird Sister's calendar to December, the picture being the band sharing a toast in front of an enormous Christmas tree. All that was left before her bedroom's completion was for Rachel to take down her Mother's old Ravenclaw scarf from her wall and chose a colour for her bedroom walls, which were still dark blue. "Only the scarf and walls to go." Rachel said to Marcus. "…I think I might have decided on a colour, though."

"What colour?" Marcus asked, opening the door further and entering the room, smiling at Ceesy as she curtseyed.

"Cyan." Rachel admitted slightly sheepishly. "Because, you know-"

"It's the combination of blue and green." Marcus said. Rachel nodded, crossing the room and pulling at the Spello-tape holding her Mother's scarf to the wall; taking the scarf down and pulling the tape from it and into a ball that she shook from her fingers into the wicker bin beside her desk.

"… Did you see Mum and Dad when you came in?" Rachel asked after a moment.

"No," Marcus shook his head. "I think Mum's in the sitting room and Dad's in his study and I didn't want to talk to either of them quite yet so I just came up here. I'm only going to be here for a few minutes though- I'm just going to pick up the flying Zograf model I got for Christmas last year- Oliver and I are going to race it against his model of Lynch. Oh, and word of warning; if you want to go to library today be aware that Terry's there- he's sitting with that bushy-haired Gryffindor girl in your year, talking about their first bouts of accidental magic."

"Good for them." Rachel said, folding up their mother's Ravenclaw scarf with a shrug.

"Yeah, they seemed to be getting along nicely." Marcus said with a wiry grin. "… So, how did Mum and Dad take you asking to redecorate?"

"As well as can be expected I guess. They agreed, but there're… rules, for lack of a better term. I'm not allowed to change the outside of the door nor am I to expect Ceesy to dust or tidy up after me and my door has to be kept shut when I'm are not inside or at home and at somewhat a jar at all times when I am inside. I agreed to that, but just before I left I told them I'm still their daughter; that they know me, even though I'm not in Ravenclaw- but they ignored me."

"Least you said it." Marcus said with a sympathetic smile. "…I'll return that for you, if you want," he went on, holding out his hand for their Mother's Ravenclaw scarf as Rachel finished folding it up. "Give it to Mum on my way out."

"Are you sure?" Rachel asked.

"Yeah," Marcus nodded. "If you can face them there's no excuse for me not to- you know what I mean." He added as Rachel raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I do." Rachel nodded, grinning. "Thank you." She said, handing him the scarf.

"Don't mention it." Marcus grinned nodded. "See you later."

"Bye." Rachel waved, turning to Ceesy as Marcus left the room, closing the door behind him.

"Cyan walls, Mistress?" Ceesy asked, raising her hand, preparing to snap her fingers.

"Yes please." Rachel replied.

Ceesy nodded, and snapped her fingers.

All at once, the royal blue paint on the four walls of Rachel's bedroom turned a lovely light cyan. Rachel looked around her, feeling better and better by the second.

"What do you think, Mistress?" Ceesy asked after a moment as Marcus's footsteps sounded down the stairs on the other side of the wall.

Rachel smiled. "It's perfect." She replied. "Thank you so much Ceesy; I really appreciate this."

"You're very welcome, Mistress." Ceesy said, smiling back. "Is there anything else Ceesy can do for you?"

"No, thank you." Rachel shook her head. "You may go."

"Yes, Mistress." Ceesy curtseyed and Disapparated.

Rachel looked around her once again. For the first time since she'd come home for the holidays, she actually felt comfortable at home… but there were still a couple of things she had to do to cement her efforts at adaptation. Crossing to her trunk, Rachel crouched, opened it and quickly unpacked her things; throwing most of her clothes into her wicker laundry basket at the bottom of the inside of her wardrobe for Ceesy to collect at her leisure. Getting to her feet, Rachel then crossed to her wardrobe, opened it and took a small cardboard box down from the top shelf; pulled a string of magically-operated Christmas lights from within and set about sticking them around the inside of her bedroom window with Spello-tape from her desk drawer. This task accomplished, Rachel stepped back and whistled three times. The white light-bulbs in the tiny lamps lit up instantly, and Rachel smiled. Not everything about her home life was nice by any means, but at least she felt comfortable in her bedroom once again.

* * *

Rachel tried to stay out of her parents' way as much as possible over the next few days; something that was made rather easier by the fact that her mother was working double-time over the Christmas period and her father spent most of his time in his study, working from home. Rachel spent a bit of time with Marcus and Oliver, and helped Ceesy bake cookies and Christmas cake, but she spent most of the time by herself, either at the library or at home, reading her book on Artemisia Lufkin or the Christmas edition of Witch Weekly; writing out her upset at her parents' new attitude towards her and her delight at her new bedroom in her leather bound notebook; wrapping her Christmas presents and exchanging correspondence with Pansy and Millicent. Millicent's parents had surprised her with a trip to France for Christmas and Pansy was in her element as her parents had hinted they had bought her a full sized clothes design mannequin for Christmas. Rachel tried to make her letters sound as upbeat as possible, scarcely mentioning her parents' attitudes and instead focusing on her redecorated bedroom; things she read in Witch Weekly; and asking questions about France and the types of clothes Pansy planned to design.

The day before Christmas Eve, Pansy wrote to Rachel about her going to stay with her after Boxing Day, a parcel neatly wrapped in snowmen adorned wrapping paper and another letter accompanying hers.

 _Dear Rachel,_ (Pansy's letter read.)

 _Attached is your Christmas present. I hope you like it but don't you dare open it before the twenty-fifth; it's called a Christmas present for a reason. :)_

 _I'm looking forward to seeing you and Millicent in a few days. My parents have said that the two of you can stay from the twenty-seventh to the thirtieth of December and can Floo to our house at any time from ten o'clock in the morning on the twenty-seventh, preferably before midday as they would like to see you before they go to work. Just say 'Parkinson Manor, Oxfordshire' when you use the Floo Network and you should get here just fine._

 _Mum and Dad have given me a letter from them to your parents to send, so that's what the attached letter is. Please send Miranda back letting me know if you're still coming as soon as your parents have 100 percent given you permission to come, so I can let my parents know._

 _Hope you're well and have a great Christmas._

 _Pansy :)_

Rachel finished reading and looked down at the enveloped that accompanied Pansy's. It lay on her Weird Sister's branded quilt, the words: ' _Mr and Mrs Belby'_ written across the middle in black ink and perfect, neat cursive. Rachel longed to know what the letter inside said but didn't dare try to steam it open or anything lest her parents notice something was amiss and decide they weren't going to let her go to Pansy's.

Sighing inwardly and steeling her resolve, Rachel set Pansy's letter aside, picked up the letter from Pansy's parents to hers and left her bedroom, closing the door behind her, cutting off the sound of Pansy's owl Miranda gulping down water from Artemisia's water tray, and ran downstairs to her father's study. She knew her parents were inside, wrapping Christmas presents as was their custom the day before Christmas. Pausing before the door, Rachel took a firm hold of her resolve, knocked three times and waited.

Moments later, footsteps sound on the other side if the door, which then opened an inch and Susanne looked out.

"Yes?" she asked curtly; the tone Rachel's parents had taken to when speaking to her.

"Um- my friend Pansy has sent me a letter to give to you and Dad from her parents about my going to stay with them after Christmas." Rachel said, holding it out. Susanne took it.

"Wait here." She said, stepping back and closing the study door. Rachel did as she was told, but leant forwards and pressed her ear to the door and trying to hear anything her parents said about her going. Moments passed in silence but then Rachel heard her parents' voices, but only fragments of their conversation were audible.

"… associating with Slytherins…" Flavius's voice said.

"… said she could go…" Susanne's voice said. "… if Marcus wanted to stay with his friends… further the distance between us…"

More indistinguishable murmurs from both her parents followed; then Rachel drew back hastily as footsteps sounded on the other side of the door once again. A second later, the door opened an inch and Rachel felt a slight sense of déjà vu as Susanne looked out at her a second time.

"You may go." She said. "You are to leave here at ten-fifteen on the morning of the twenty-seventh and return no later than a quarter to six in the afternoon on the thirtieth via the floo network. The Parkinsons have said that your friend has asked you to respond, so thank the Parkinsons for their letter in your response."

"Okay," Rachel nodded. "Thank you." She said with a small smile.

Susanne said nothing, stepping back and closing the study door once again, expressionless.

Turning on her heel, Rachel turned and hurried back up to her bedroom to write to Pansy, trying her upmost to ignore, or at least set aside the swirl of hurt and upset she still felt despite herself at her parents' attitudes towards her.

She had, Rachel told herself firmly, fighting the lump that was stuck in her throat, another three days to get through, and she would get a brief, but all-too-welcome respite.

She just had to get through Christmas Day with the entirely- not including her Uncle Damocles- of her Ravenclaw-proud family, first; including the only person she knew that was more House-proud than her father: her Grandmother Elspeth.

 **A/N: Please review! :)**


	13. Chapter 13: Jacob Marley

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else that may be referenced in this chapter.**

 **A/N: Big thank you to you all. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)**

 **Twitter: Prof_McGonagal**

 **Chapter 13: Jacob Marley**

 _Tap-tap! Tap-tap! Tap-tap! TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP!_

Rachel awoke on Christmas morning, shoved her glasses onto the end of her nose, and switched on her bedroom lamp to the sound of Artemisia's beak tapping vigorously on the window. Looking bleary-eyed towards it, Rachel saw her owl staring at her from the snow covered window-sill, shivering, a small square parcel wrapped in Father Christmas decorated wrapping paper tied to her leg. The sky outside was a dull grey; snow was falling steadily from the clouds, and according to the clock beside Rachel's bed it was half-past seven in the morning. Rachel had sent Millicent her Christmas present- a collection of different sized Irish National Quidditch team badges- via Artemisia rather late previous afternoon, and it seem that Artemisia had just finished the journey home with Millicent's gift to her. Seeing how cold her owl was, Rachel hastened to get out of bed and open her window.

"Hey, A; happy Christmas," Rachel murmured with a smile as Artemisia flew into the room, landed on top of her cage and held out her leg, hooting softly in response. Having closed her bedroom window against the cold outside, Rachel turned to Artemisia and untied the parcel from her leg.

It was indeed Millicent's Christmas present to her. Rachel turned and set Millicent's present to her down beside Pansy's on her desk- she had sent Pansy her gift- a pocket notebook that opened to unfold full-sized sheets of parchment- with her reply confirming her parent's saying she could go and stay with her on the twenty-seventh- and got back into bed, taking off her glasses, switching off her lamp and laying back down to the sound of Artemisia jumping into her cage and crunching and gulping her way through the food and water in the two trays inside her cage. Rachel rolled over onto her side and closed her eyes, deciding to try and get some more sleep before what remained of Christmas day commenced.

"Rachel!" Marcus's call and the accompanying knocks on her bedroom door caused Rachel to to wake with a start some three quarters of an hour later. "Rachel wake up; Ceesy says that breakfast is ready and that Mum and Dad are waiting - and I don't want to sit with Mum and Dad alone!" this last was hissed just loud enough for Rachel to hear.

"Why?" Rachel asked as she pulled open her bedroom door, straightening her glasses as she did so. As far as she was aware, Susanne and Flavius were treating Marcus as they usually did, despite their getting shirty with him when he stuck up for her. "Haven't Mum and Dad been treating you the way they always have?"

"Well, yeah, but all the same I'd rather you were there," Marcus said, pushing his hair from his eyes. "It's not fair that you're left out and we're sticking together, aren't we?"

"Yeah," Rachel nodded, flattening her own hair and tucking it behind her ears, "Yeah, definitely. Happy Christmas, by the way."

"Yeah- happy Christmas," Marcus replied, leading the way down the stairs as Rachel stepped out of her bedroom and closed her door behind her.

When Marcus and Rachel entered the dining room, they found breakfast was indeed on the table and their parents were sitting around it, too- Flavius at the head and Susanne to his right, facing the rest of the dining room. Both of them were fully dressed.

"Happy Christmas." Marcus said as he and Rachel sat down next to each other at the table.

"Happy Christmas, Marcus." Flavius replied, draining the last of his tea.

"Yeah- happy Christmas." Susanne smiled at Marcus.

"… Happy Christmas, Mum; Dad." Rachel said after a moment as neither of her parents looked in her direction.

"Yes." Susanne replied, not looking up from her plate.

Flavius said nothing, instead staring into his empty tea cup; looking as though he had a rather foul taste in his mouth.

A lump rose in Rachel's throat and tears curled in the corners of her eyes. Despite her resolution to be done with crying and find a way to adapt, her parents' distant attitude towards her still hurt, especially on Christmas Day. Wiping her eyes discreetly, and forcing the lump down, Rachel chose some pancakes, returned Marcus's sympathetic smile with a rather watery one, and started on her breakfast.

Breakfast, however, turned out to be rather an awkward affair. As had become their custom, both Flavius and Susanne ignored Rachel as much as possible and made conversation with Marcus, who tried many times without success to get them to include Rachel in the conversation. Rachel, for her part, tried to participate in the conversation when she could, but mostly spent the meal trying to keep a lid on her upset at her parents' attitudes. It was only just starting to fully sink in that her fears about her family's reaction to her Sorting were a reality, and the fact that it was Christmas Day made her feel even worse.

Such was the extent of her upset that as soon as she finished her breakfast Rachel hurried upstairs to get ready for the day and collect herself in the hopes of making it through the day without bursting into floods of tears in front of her whole family. She had only just finished dressing and wiped the lasts of her tears from breakfast from her eyes and got a hold on her emotions when someone knocked gently on her bedroom door.

"Rachel- it's me," Marcus called softly. "…Are you alright?" he asked when she opened the door, looking at her in concern. He, too, was dressed for the day, and he held four parcels wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper decorated with trees under his arm- his presents to Flavius, Susanne, Ceesy and, Rachel herself.

"Not entirely," Rachel answered honestly, cursing herself inwardly as she was forced to tears curled in their corners again. "But it's just because it's Christmas, you know, and Mum and Dad, they, you know…" she trailed off meaningfully, wiping her eyes.

"I get it." Marcus nodded, grimacing sympathetically. "… Things'll be okay." He said after a moment, squeezing her arm. "They have to come around one day, right?"

As much as she wanted to believe him, Rachel seriously doubted this. Not wanting to put any more of a damper on Christmas, she did not say so aloud; nodding instead.

"Hopefully," she agreed with a small smile.

Marcus smiled back. "Ready to go downstairs?" he asked, gesturing down them.

"Yeah," Rachel nodded, tucking her hair behind her ears. "I've just got to get my presents."

Turning back into her bedroom, Rachel hurried to her wardrobe and pulled down her presents to Flavius, Susanne, Marcus and Ceesy from the top shelf. She left her presents from Pansy and Millicent where she had put them on her desk, wanting to open them later on, when she was alone. Leaving her bedroom, Rachel closed the door behind her and followed Marcus downstairs and across the foyer in the direction of the kitchen door. The two siblings always gave Ceesy their presents to her in the kitchen, before going to the sitting room to open their other gifts with their parents.

Rachel's Christmas took a slight turn for better when she and Marcus went into the kitchen to give Ceesy her present- two boxes of Chocolate Frogs, her favourite confectionary- in the kitchen, where she was cooking Christmas lunch; for, upon her and Marcus's opened their gifts from Ceesy- which were, as ever, hand-knitted jumpers- Rachel found her jumper was bottle green. Rachel looked up from her jumper at Ceesy as she accepted Marcus' thanks for his- which was dark blue- oddly touched that even though Ceesy had been ordered not to clean her bedroom anymore she had made her Christmas gift green. It felt like a show of support; like she had another ally at home, and the thought was very comforting. Unsure how to express the extent of her thanks verbally, Rachel stepped forwards and hugged Ceesy.

Ceesy returned the hug and patted her on the back, seeming to understand. "You're welcome, Mistress." She said quietly.

Once they left the kitchen, Marcus and Rachel headed to the sitting room, where they found their parents and two piles of Christmas presents waiting for them. One of the piles was made up of four large presents wrapped in plain blue paper, the other just two small ones wrapped it black. The six blue ones were labelled 'Marcus' and the black ones, 'Rachel.'

A lump rose in Rachel's throat. There was more to Christmas than just presents she knew, but she couldn't help but feel as though the two piles of presents and the difference in their sizes and the colour of the wrapping paper was some kind of visual representation of her parents' feelings towards her; and seeing it reflected in a three dimensional model of sorts was something that made the sting of their attitudes sting all the more painfully. But having no real choice but to force herself to ignore the lump, Rachel gave her parents her gifts to them, exchanged gifts with Marcus, too; and sat down with Marcus's large flat gift to her beside her two presents from her parents.

One of Rachel's gifts from her parents was rectangular, the other a rather odd, roundish triangle-shape. The rectangular one turned out to be a collection of five miniature ink pots in the colours red, blue, green, yellow and purple; and the other, rather oddly shaped one was a packet of black hair-ties- why, Rachel wasn't entirely sure, as her hair was too short to be tied back. Nevertheless, she thanked her parents politely. They inched their heads forwards stiffly in response, Rachel's gifts of a dark blue wool scarf for Susanne and a custom printed dark blue mug with ' _The Daily Prophet'_ printed on it in gold letter for Flavius set to one side, forgotten.

Looking at her gifts to her parents, Rachel felt a sudden sense of rebellion. Unfolding her jumper from Ceesy from around her arm, Rachel pulled it on; straightening the sleeves and collar, making sure her parents saw that it was green. Her parents' lips thinned but Rachel ignored them, feeling a surge of triumph, however tainted it was with bitterness, anger and upset. Turning her head away from her parents, Rachel picked up and opened Marcus's present to her, which turned out to be a 1992 Weird Sister's calendar.

"Thanks." She said to Marcus, holding up the calendar with a grin, feeling slightly better.

"And to you," he grinned back, holding up the miniature model of a skeleton of a dragon that flew once it was built she had given him. He had given Susanne and Flavius a bronze and blue picture frame respectively, which they kept beaming at in delight. From them he received a collection of a dozen bookmarks shaped like Manticores, Sphinxes and Merpeople; a Bulgarian Quidditch team fan jumper with ZOGRAF- the name of his favourite Quidditch player- printed in the back and a copies of _Bestiarium Magicum_ and _Dreadful Denizens of the Deep._

At half-past eleven, Rachel's Christmas, which had taken a turn for the better through Ceesy's jumper and Marcus's giving her a Weird Sisters calendar, plummeted back down again, into what was shaping into one of the worst days of her life so far. This was due to the arrival of her Grandmother Elspeth, Aunt Sophia, Uncle Elijah and cousin Mary.

Elspeth entered the house with six presents tucked under one arm, her handbag hanging off her other, and her the corners of her mouth rather pinched, though she greeted Flavius, Susanne, Marcus, Sophia, Elijah and Mary with particular enthusiasm, and took absolutely no notice whatsoever of Rachel.

"Hello!" she said, beaming around the foyer at the six. "Hello everyone- here are your presents." She handed each of the six a present, continuing to take absolutely no notice whatsoever of Rachel.

"…Hi, Gran." Rachel said after a moment, smiling sightly awkwardly.

Elspeth ignored her, the only indication that she had even heard her being the turning down of the corners of her mouth. Rachel's throat tightened uncomfortably, but she turned and greeted her Aunt Sophia, Uncle Elijah and cousin Mary; all of who smiled at her rather forcedly and uncomfortably as they handed over their present to her, though Rachel rather thought that there was something rather triumphant behind Mary's smile. But she did not have time to dwell on the matter- not that it was particularly surprising, for Rachel knew her being Sorted outside of Ravenclaw and being excommunicated from her family would be exactly the sort of thing Mary would relish in- before Flavius ushered everyone into the sitting room.

Watching everyone else open their presents in the sitting room, smiling at each other, saying and accepting thank yous, chatting, laughing and getting along in general made Rachel's throat tighten uncomfortably anew as a wave of upset and a strange lost feeling eclipsed her. She felt very much as though she was an outsider; as though she was intruding on another family, even while she was opening her present from her Aunt, Uncle and cousin- which turned out to be a pair of plain white socks made out of a strangely scratchy material that were a size too small.

Such was the extent of her uncomfortableness, upset and lost feeling that Rachel almost got up and slipped into her and Marcus's old playroom that was just off the left hand side of sitting room' or even upstairs to her bedroom to open her presents from Pansy and Millicent; but she didn't, partially because she didn't want to give anyone an actual reason to dislike her, and partially because Marcus was sitting beside her, getting her to fill in the labels of the fill-in-yourself poster detailing the body parts of a Hungarian Horntail that was their grandmother's present to him in front of her, smirking slightly as Elspeth's lips thinned with every word that passed.

Elspeth's newfound distain for her was so very evident that Rachel suddenly felt rather uncomfortable at the thought of owning her necklace. Thus, when Ceesy Apparated into the sitting room to announce that Christmas dinner was ready, Rachel hurried upstairs to her bedroom in the shuffle that followed, intending to find the necklace and return it.

But when she closed her bedroom door and found herself alone for the first time since getting dressed, Rachel's ability to keep a hold on her emotions slipped and she found herself slumping back against her bedroom door, her shoulders shaking with sobs and tears streaming down her cheeks.

…Practically her entire family hated her; looked down on her because she was not in Ravenclaw… she had anticipated it, yes; and feared it, but the reality was harsh and bitter, like a particularly sharp wind in the wintertime…

… But as much as she wanted to just sink down to her bedroom floor and bawl her eyes out at it all, Rachel knew she couldn't. She had to pull herself together, go back downstairs and hold onto her emotions until she really could be alone.

Taking a deep, rather shaky yet steadying breath, Rachel took off her tear-streaked glasses and cleaned them on her jumper, wiping her eyes and slipping them back onto her nose after a moment. Taking another deep breath, Rachel straightened her glasses and found her Grandmother's necklace where she had put in her jewellery box when she had unpacked her things, picked it up and ran back downstairs. Slipping into the sitting room, Rachel laid the necklace carefully across the zip of her Grandmother's handbag, not wanting to open the bag, a slight lump of upset at her Grandmother's attitude rising in her throat as she did so. Forcing herself to ignore the lump, for she doubted there was anything she could to to change her Grandmother's mind- she had been the one to instil Flavius's Ravenclaw pride after all- Rachel left the sitting room for the dining room.

She faltered slightly upon reaching the doorway, not entirely sure that she was hungry, and practically certain that she didn't really want to spend anymore time with her entire family. But she knew that if she didn't go in her parents would accuse her of being rude, and that would only worsen things between them. Taking a third deep breath, Rachel steeled her resolve and entered the dining room, hoping that her previous absence would not be remarked upon or held against her.

But her absence did not seem to have raised any concerns in any way shape or form, for when she entered the dining room and sat down in the empty seat beside Marcus, her family had already started on dinner and her talking and laughing merrily. Marcus offered her a Christmas Cracker, which she pulled with a smile; but aside from her brother, none of her family even so much as made eye contact with her for the entirety of the meal, nor the hours that followed. Rachel, for her part, found herself feeling less and less awkward and uncomfortable and lost at their collective attitude; instead feeling angrier and more upset and isolated and frustrated. Thus, she decided that she was going to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas next year and she spent the meal eating to appease what little appetite she had and fighting to control the hot angry and frustrated tears that burned behind her eyes and hold her tongue and not stand up and scream at her family that she was the same person she had always been; that they should be more open minded and not treat her like she was less than they were because she was not in Ravenclaw.

By some miracle, Rachel managed to hold her emotions in until her relatives had left; the moment the front door closed behind her grandmother she bolted into the sitting room to collect her Christmas presents from her family before going up to her bedroom to escape from their attitude, bawl out her frustration and, once she had calmed down, open Pansy and Millicent's presents to her in the hopes of feeling better- but she paused upon entering the the sitting room, catching sight of something.

The necklace she had left across her grandmother's handbag was curled up on the exact centre of the sitting room table, the diamond shaped charm atop the chain. Rachel stared at it for a moment, her mind racing.

… The position of the necklace was such that it had clearly been placed there; her Grandmother did not want the necklace back, then, but judging by the way Elspeth had treated her, Rachel couldn't imagine that the reason for this was that her Grandmother still thought highly of her and wanted her to have it to carry on one of _her_ family's traditions… Rachel bit the inside of her lip, thinking back over her getting the necklace in the hopes of finding something; anything that would explain why her Grandmother had left it…

… " _In keeping with the tradition; allow me to wipe the slate clean for you… My mother said that this allows for the necklace to hold new memories, your memories, my dear_."

The memory of Elspeth's words as she cleaned the necklace came back to Rachel, and with it a thought that, very unpleasantly, made sense:

Her Grandmother had left the necklace because she, Rachel, had been sorted into Slytherin. She didn't want it anymore because she felt it was beneath her; or she thought it was tainted or befouled.

This thought brought Rachel's upset, anger and frustration to the highest point possible. Struggling to contain it, Rachel snatched up all her Christmas presents and even the necklace, and sprinted upstairs to her bedroom; closed the door behind her; shoved everything higgledy-piggledy onto the opposite side of her desk to where she had placed Pansy and Millicent's gifts; before hurrying over to her bed, stumbling slightly as she did so. Grabbing her pillow, Rachel buried her face into it to muffle the sound, ignoring her glasses pressing painfully into her face, and burst into tears.

Her eyes burned as hot angry tears stung at them and poured down her cheeks; sobs wracked her body, shaking her as she drew her knees to her chest and sobbed harder than ever at the unfairness of her family's attitude; and what it meant for future holidays and the rest of her life.

She cried and cried until her eyes stung with their every movement and her throat felt raw from sobs. Eventually, the only sound of her upset were harsh, dry hiccups that made Rachel's head spin painfully. Sitting up, Rachel clung on tighter to her pillow and forced herself to take several slow, deep breaths, regain her hold over her emotions and calm down. Only once her breathing was steady, did Rachel lift her head from her pillow, take off and clean her glasses and reset them gently on to the bridge of her nose, which was rather sore from having her glasses pressed into it by her pillow. Setting her pillow back down onto the bed, Rachel took several new deep steady breaths for good measure and forced herself to put her family's prejudice out of her mind before crossing to her desk and sitting down to open Pansy and Millicent's presents to her, feeling rather drained emotionally and wanting to inject some happiness into her afternoon.

Pansy's present contained several headbands of various different colours and materials, some of them pattered with flowers and others studded with silver and gold. Rachel smiled at the sight of them, happy to have something she could actually wear in her hair. Her smile widened at Millicent's present- a metallic silver bracelet shaped like a snake. A note accompanied it:

 _Happy Christmas. Don't be afraid to wear it._

 _M. :)_

Rachel smiled further at the note, reaching out and sliding the bracelet onto her right wrist, pulling her black headband from her hair and replacing it with a floral one Pansy had given her. Feeling rather better, Rachel got to her feet, and turned to her presents from her family. Picking up the 1992 Weird Sister's calendar Marcus had given her, Rachel smiled down at it, too, before tucking it safely into the bottom of her school trunk so there would definitely be room for it when she went back to Hogwarts. Turning back to her desk, Rachel took a deep breath, and set about tidying up her grandmother's necklace and the things the rest of her family had given her for Christmas. Feeling oddly emotionless, Rachel curled up her Grandmother's necklace in a tiny drawer of her jewellery box; and dropped the packets of hair ties and too-small socks from her parents and her aunt, uncle and cousin respectively into the drawer of her desk, unsure of quite what to do with them. With this task accomplished, Rachel felt as though she a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders as she closed her desk drawer, crossed the room and poked a few owl treats from the packet she had bought Artemisia for Christmas through the bars of Artemisia's cage for her to eat when she woke up from sleeping under her wing, before flopping down onto her bed and pulling her brown leather bound notebook and a quill from her bedside drawer. Opening the former to a new page, Rachel thought over the day she had had, before setting her quill to the page and starting to write.

Some forty-five minutes later, Rachel set down her quill, massaged her slightly cramped and read over everything she had written, feeling tired, drained and rather fragile, but a great deal better now that it was out of her system.

… It had not been the best Christmas by any means, but in two days she would be back with her friends and away from the prejudice of her parents and extended family. She felt a little bit guilty about leaving Marcus alone, but he had spent practically everyday of the holidays with Oliver, so, now that Christmas was over, things were decidedly going to improve.

 **A/N: Please review! :)**


	14. Chapter 14: A Holiday from Home

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else that may be referenced in this chapter.**

 **A/N: Immeasurable thank you to you all. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)**

 **Twitter: Prof_McGonagal**

 **Chapter 14: A Holiday from Home**

At a little before ten-fifteen on the morning of the twenty-seventh, Rachel stood in the kitchen of her home, a packed bag over her shoulder and a fist-full of floor powder from the pot on the shelf beside the fireplace in her hand.

"You'll remember to change Artemisia's water, right?" she asked Marcus.

"Yes," Marcus nodded, slightly exasperatedly, "and I'll feed her and let her out and in tomorrow night, like you said. Don't worry, Artemisia's in safe hands."

"I know," Rachel admitted. "Sorry, it's just I've never left her alone at home for more than a night before- and I know at Hogwarts she looks after herself; and that she knows to wait until there are no Muggles about before flying into the leaves of the tree to get to my window in the morning, but all the same…" she trailed off meaningfully.

"Yeah, I get it." Marcus nodded. "If I had to leave Newt alone, I'd worry a bit, too," he glanced at his watch as he spoke. "It's fourteen minutes past." he said. "Almost time."

"Yeah." Rachel nodded, glancing almost involuntarily towards the kitchen door, half-hoping against hope that her father would walk through it and say goodbye. She, Marcus and Flavius were the only three in the house; Susanne had gone to work before Rachel and Marcus had even woken up and Ceesy was out shopping. Flavius was already in his study when Marcus and Rachel came down to breakfast, they had pressed their ears to the door and heard him dictating a letter to a colleague; Rachel had knocked on the study door before she and Marcus had entered the kitchen and called out that she was leaving, but received no response.

"It's his loss." Marcus said, reading her expression. Rachel tried to smile, though it felt more like a grimace; evidently it looked like it, too, for Marcus frowned slightly. "Look, don't worry about him while you're away; or Mum or Gran or anyone," he said. "Just relax, okay? Have a laugh; have fun."

"… Okay." Rachel agreed, managing to smile. Marcus smiled back and glanced at his watch again.

"Ten-fifteen." he said. "You should go."

"See you on the thirtieth," Rachel said with a smile, hugging her brother.

"See you." Marcus smiled back, hugging her back before guiding her over to the fireplace as she adjusted the strap of her bag of her shoulder and took off her glasses, tucking them safely into the side pocket of her bag before throwing the floo powder into the fireplace. Squinting to see, Rachel caught slight of a flare of green flame, reached out and pressed her hand to the side of the fireplace and ducking her head as she stepped carefully into the fireplace and turned around to face the kitchen, closing her eyes and tucking her elbows tightly into her sides.

"Parkinson Manor, Oxfordshire!" she called.

All at once, she felt as though she was being pulled down an enormous drain. Moments later she was spinning incredibly fast, a great roaring noise deafening her. Rachel screwed her eyes shut even tighter, holding her elbows tightly to her sides, starting to feel spinning and spinning faster then ever. Then she felt as though icy hands were slapping her around the face- she knew from past experience that meant she was passing other fireplaces and places connected to the floo network- moments later, she stopped spinning abruptly, lost her footing and fell out of the fireplace. She caught sight of a blur of purple as she fell to one side with a squeal, alarmed and confused.

"Merlin!" Pansy's voice cried as Rachel felt two pairs of hands on her shoulders and arms, stopping her from hitting the ground and helping her to regain her footing.

"T-thanks." Rachel stammered with a rather shaky smile, squinting to see and fumbling around to the side pocket of her bag for her glasses. Finding the zip, Rachel extracted her glasses from the pocket and slid them onto the end of her nose, looking around her as the world came into focus.

She was standing in a large square foyer. A large white staircase stood opposite her, and a set of glass-paned front doors bookended by large green plants stood in the wall to her left and several dark wooden doors led off the walls behind her and to her right. The walls were painted a dark purple; the floor was made of dark wood and Rachel saw she was standing on a white faux-fur hearthrug before a roaring fire, Pansy and Millicent beside her, the latter with a black bag over her shoulder.

"Hi." she said, smiling sheepishly.

"Hi." they replied, grinning back.

"Ah, Millicent; Rachel- nice to see you both again." The girls looked around as the tall, thin figure of Pansy's mother, Isabella, swept into the foyer, smiling at them. She wore lime green robes emblazoned with the emblem of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries- a wand crossed with a bone- and she was sweeping her wavy brown hair up into a ponytail as she walked.

"Hello; it's nice to see you too." Millicent and Rachel replied, smiling back.

"Are you going to work?" Pansy asked her mother, looking surprised. "I thought you didn't start until midday."

"I'm not supposed to, but I've been called in early," Isabella explained one of the Healers in the Janus Thickey Ward, Strout, has called in sick so they need someone to take over her shift; and they called me. I'll be back about six o'clock this evening; but your father's here in meetings with your uncle about the estate until midday but he'll likely be popping home throughout the afternoon; and your sister should be back from Diagon Alley by three- but you know the drill, if you need anything and you're home alone-"

"Ask a house-elf." Pansy finished with a grin. Isabella grinned back, leanings forwards and kissing Pansy's forehead.

"Exactly." She replied, drawing back and tucking a lock of Pansy's hair behind her ear. "I have to go now, otherwise I'll be late- but I will be back later. I love you."

"Love you too." Pansy replied, smiling.

"You girls have fun." Isabella said, smiling back at her daughter and then around at all three girls before spinning on her heel and Disapparating with a loud _CRACK!_

"Let's go upstairs- I'll show you where you'll be sleeping and give you the tour Rachel," Pansy said. She lead the way up the large, white stairs and up onto an enormous cream coloured landing complete with a thick white carpet, a small seating area to in its top left and lined with dark wooden doors.

"Eliza's room is this one here." Pansy said, gesturing to a door nearest the stairs on their right hand side as she lead the way across the landing. "My room is this one," she pointed to an adjacent door, still on their right hand side. "The main upstairs bathroom is through there," she pointed to a door directly opposite the staircase. "My parents room is just through that door; and the one beside it leads to the my mother's study and the library and upstairs drawing room- the other side of the Manor; basically," she pointed to two doors on the wall across the landing to their left. "but our guestrooms are down there." She passed through a door which was nestled behind the seating area; and the three girls found themselves in large hallway lined with seven doors; three lining each side of the hallway and one at it's head. "All the bedrooms have their own bathrooms attached. All the guestrooms are about the same size and look pretty much the same, though they're all different colours; and you two will be in these ones here." She gestured to the two doors directly in front of them. "Rachel you're in the one on the left and Millicent you're in the one on the right, as usual." She took hold of the doorhandle to Rachel's room as she spoke, opened it with a flourish and lead the way inside. "Ta-da!"

The Parkinson's guestroom was a large, rectangular room painted a soft baby yellow. A large white framed queen sized bed faced them, clothed with white and yellow bed sheets and bookended by two white bedside tables. A dark wooden door stood in the wall to their left, leading, Rachel assumed, to the bathroom. A wardrobe and full length mirror stood to the door's left, and directly opposite it, to the girls right, stood a white and fully equipped white desk and desk chair; a heavily laden bookshelf, and in the corner, a high-backed and very comfortable yellow armchair. A couple of gold framed oil paintings depicting farms and gardens of various coloured flowers lined the walls, all of the scenes being tended to by tiny magically painted farmers and gardeners, and there was a definite air of cosiness to the room, which was, too, very well lit, curtesy of the large square window in the right hand corner of the wall directly opposite the door. The white curtains were pulled back, allowing light to stream into the room and providing an outlook over the grounds outside.

"It's lovely; really nice." Rachel said with a smile, dropping her bag down by the bed.

"Thanks." Pansy smiled back happily. After Millicent had dropped her bag in her room, which was the same as Rachel's only blue-themed and with different scenes of farm life and gardens in the paintings, the three girls returned to the main landing and entered Pansy's bedroom.

Pansy's bedroom seemed to be divided into two rooms; one half a bedroom and the other half a studio. The walls were painted a light purple colour, and the curtains around the windows at either end of the wall facing the girls looked to be made up of different comic strips cut from the Daily Prophet and stuck to long, floor length stretches of white cloth. The black wooden head of Pansy's bed sat against the wall to their left; bookended by two bedside tables. A door stood beside left bedside table, presumably leading to a bathroom; a desk covered with Pansy's schoolbooks, pieces of parchment, quills, ink, a pile of several copies of _Witch Weekly_ and a box marked ' _Letters'_ stood against the wall facing the girls and a simply enormous wardrobe and mirror stood directly opposite the girls, the latter with a Weird Sisters poster from _Witch Weekly_ on one of the doors and clearly near fit to bursting with clothes. The right hand side of the room was devoted entirely to functioning as a workshop. A large rectangular table stood a little away from the wall on the right hand aide of the room, laden with various folds of material, sewing equipment and quills and light coloured inkpots, a desk-chair besides it; a large pin board hung on the right hand wall, filled with various sketches and designs for clothes and accessories; a number of torso, head leg, hand and feet mannequins were stacked in the right hand corner, and, in the very centre of the right hand side of the room stood a full sized clothes design mannequin, which was currently draped in what was clearly the beginnings of a emerald green cardigan, that was currently glittering with a number of pins.

"Welcome to my workshop where I happen to sleep, Rachel." Pansy said with a smile, jumping onto her bed.

"It's amazing," Rachel said, looking around at everything in slight awe as she and Millicent joined Pansy on the bed.

"You got the mannequin, then?" Millicent asked Pansy, nodding towards the full sized mannequin.

"Yeah- it's brilliant; and some books on design from my Aunts and Uncles and this watch from Eliza; pretty good Christmas all around, actually." Pansy smiled, nodding and holding out her wrist, where a silver watch with diamonds around the face glittered. "Thanks for your presents, too, they're lovely."

"You're welcome- thank you both too." Rachel smiled.

"Yeah, and thank you." Millicent grinned.

"So was France all lovely and snowy Millicent- did you see the Eiffel Tower all lit up?" Pansy asked. "And how were your parents Rachel- did they come round to your not being in Ravenclaw? Merlin I feel like I haven't seen you guys in ages!" She grinned sheepishly.

"So do I," Rachel agreed through a giggle as Millicent giggled, too. "You go first." She said to Millicent.

"Sure?" Millicent asked; Rachel nodded, wanting to both hear about France and put off having to talk about her parents. "Well, France was amazing," Millicent gushed. "The villa we stayed in was massive and way out in the country; there was snow everywhere, more and more everyday, but the villa was really well heated, and when we went to Paris for the day all the wizarding shops and restaurants were heated too, so we were okay. We went into Paris on Christmas Eve and even though it was absolutely packed it was brilliant. We had dinner at this wizarding restaurant really close to the Eiffel Tower- I have no idea how to pronounce the name- but it was great and there was this massive carousel right near the Eiffel Tower and everything was just covered in Christmas lights and it was just brilliant. The trip was my main present, but my parents got me something to open on Christmas Day- the _Nimbus 2000_!"

"No way!" Rachel and Pansy exclaimed, their eyes widening in amazement.

"I couldn't believe it when I opened it!" Millicent nodded fervently. "I had to leave it at home but it's brilliant- all sleek and shiny and as fast as anything!" she beamed, clearly delighted. "So, as Pansy said, pretty good Christmas all around."

"You can say that again." Rachel and Pansy agreed in awe.

"…What about you Rachel?" Millicent asked with slight tentativeness after a moment, when Rachel made no attempt to tell tales of her own Christmas. "You didn't really say in your letters; did your parents- you know- come around?"

Rachel hesitated slightly, not wanting to spoil the happy atmosphere that had come with reuniting with Pansy and Millicent and hearing stories about their nice Christmases, but also not wanting to lie to her friends and act as though her Christmas had been nice when it had not.

"... They didn't, did they?" Pansy asked sympathetically, watching Rachel carefully.

"No," Rachel shook her head, a lump rising in her throat as she acknowledged the fact aloud for the first time. "No they didn't." Taking a deep breath, Rachel launched into the the story of her own Christmas; her parents' attitude towards her; how she had felt redecorating her bedroom, the restrictions her father had imposed, what she thought their reason for letting her come and stay at Parkinson Manor for a few days; and the way the rest of her family, with the noted exception of Marcus, had treated her on Christmas. By the time she reached the end of her narrative, her throat was so constricted she could hardly speak, and her vision was blurry with tears.

"Oh, Rachel I'm sorry," Pansy murmured as she and Millicent leant over and wrapped their arms around her shoulders.

"I-it's okay- it's not your fault," Rachel managed, wiping her eyes.

"It's not okay," Millicent shook her head. "Your family can't treat you like this- it's not fair. There has to be something we can do to make them see that there's nothing wrong with your being in Slytherin."

"I appreciate the thought Millicent, really; but I don't think there's anything that can be said to convince them." Rachel said, pushing her glasses up her nose. "My entire family have been intensely Ravenclaw-proud forever; If they didn't change their minds two hundred and fifty years ago when Dorothy Belby was Sorted into Gryffindor I doubt they'll change their minds for me. Plus, like I told you, Marcus tried to talk to to my parents when we first got home for the holidays and it didn't work, and if my family members don't listen to each other, they're hardly likely to listen to someone else. But you know my Christmas wasn't all bad," she went on, wanting to inject some positivity into her otherwise rather sorry Christmas, "Marcus has decided blood is thicker than water, to put it simply, so he was nice to me; and I'm here now and _did_ I get great presents from him and you guys- thank you again for those, they really helped; and thank you for inviting me Pansy, I don't know what I would've done if I hadn't had the thought of coming here to keep me going." She smiled gratefully at her friends.

"You're welcome." Pansy smile, squeezing Rachel's shoulder.

"Yeah," Millicent agreed, smiling too. "So, what do you think about Christmas at Hogwarts next year, girls?"

Rachel laughed slightly. "I've thought about it."

"Speaking of Christmas, I had a letter from Theo on Christmas Day." Pansy said, getting up from the bed and crossing over to the desk on the 'bedroom' half of the room.

"Really?" Millicent raised her eyebrows.

"You and Nott write to each other?" Rachel asked wrinkling her nose slightly; the mention of Nott reminding her of Zabini.

Pansy rolled her eyes over her shoulder at Rachel at her using the boy's surname. "Yes Rachel, we do." She said, opening the box marked ' _Letters'_ on her desk top and removing sheet of parchment from within. "And he says hi and Happy Christmas to you both; look." She held out the letter as she sat back down on her bed. Millicent took it from her and started to read, Rachel looking over her shoulder.

 _Dear Pansy,_

 _Happy Christmas! Hope you're well and you like the attached present. Thanks for the present you sent- I haven't opened it yet, as is Christmas Eve as I'm writing this, but I'm sure it's great._

 _I've been exploring the castle a bit now that it's practically empty; haven't found much of interest- only this weird mirror in a disused classroom near the kitchens. It's massive, goes all the way to the ceiling, with this fancy gold frame around it, clawed feet and this inscription: 'Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi' which, I worked out, if you write it out and turn it towards a mirror it says: I show not your face but your hearts desire' and it really does, too. I saw myself as the editor of Transfiguration Today, being presented with chess set made of solid gold and studded with diamonds and everything. It was amazing. When I showed the mirror to Blaise said he saw himself alone on a deserted island finally getting some peace and quiet, but I think he was joking._

 _The house-elves here are working themselves to the bone for tomorrow; I went to the kitchens for a snack this afternoon and they've got loads of mince pies and_ _chipolatas and mountains of potatoes and a hundred turkeys. Something tells me that Christmas dinner's going to be magical- no pun intended._

 _I've got to go and send this now; I've started a game of sneaking a snowball into the castle everyday and throwing it at Blaise at exactly 5:32pm, and if I don't get a move on I'll miss the time, which will utterly devastate him, as I'm sure you can imagine. It might actually devastate Irma, honestly; she's joined in, see._

 _Hope you have a great Christmas and New Year, and I'll show you the mirror when you get back if you like. Say hi and 'Happy Christmas' to Millicent and Rachel from me if you see them._

 _All the best,_

 _Theo. :)_

"That 'hearts desire' mirror sounds amazing." Millicent said, handing the letter back when she and Rachel finished reading.

"Yeah," Rachel agreed. "And that stuff about Zabini being hit with a snowball everyday." She smiled at the thought.

"Why do you and Zabini hate each other so much?" Millicent asked as Pansy returned Nott's letter to her box. "I mean, I know he called you an eavesdropper during the first feast, but other than that…" she trailed off, raising one shoulder, curious.

"Well, it's a bit silly really…" Rachel said and launched into the tale of her first meeting with Zabini in Flourish and Blotts. "...but then he was horrible to me in the Great Hall at the feast, and ever since then I haven't liked him and things have descended as time's gone on, as you know- I dunno why he's taken against me so much though; as I said at the feast I wasn't eavesdropping." She finished, shrugging. "What did Nott get you for Christmas, Pansy?" she asked, wanting to both know and change the subject from Zabini.

"These- though they're half-empty now," Pansy said with a smile, leaning over and opening her right bedside table drawer, reaching inside and pulling out a box of Sugar Quills. The box was rather expensive looking- white, decorated by moving pictures of Father Christmas and his reindeer riding his sleigh the presents within clearly tiny Sugar Quills and had _Sugar Quills_ emblazoned in gold cursive font across the lit of the box, which was tied shut with a gold ribbon. "and I got him some Caramel Chocolate- the new, limited addition gold-coloured chocolate ones, you know?" she asked, looking at her friends, a slightly anxious look behind her eyes.

"Yeah- very fancy." Millicent grinned; Rachel did the same, nodding. Pansy seemed to relax at their assent, untying the ribbon around her box of Sugar Quills- which was half-filled with gold-coloured Sugar Quills, and offering it to Millicent and Rachel.

"… What do you think you'd see if you looked in the 'hearts desire' mirror?" she asked, smiling back and taking a Sugar Quill from the box herself as they as they took one each with a smile of thanks. "I think I'd have my shop; all set up and packed out."

"Well, I'd be Minister for Magic." Rachel said. "I'd be in the office at the Ministry, dictating a letter or signing a law, or anything, really- and my family would, you know, be alright again." She grimaced, biting off the top of the feather of her sugar quill.

Millicent tilted her head to one side thoughtfully, twirling her Sugar Quill around the corner of her mouth. "… You know, I'm not entirely sure," she answered after a moment. "I'd definitely like to work somewhere to do with Sport- maybe captain or manager if a team or Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, but whether or not that's my 'hearts desire…" she trailed off. "…Why d'you reckon there's a mirror that shows your heart's desire in a disused classroom, though?" she asked after a moment. "I mean, it's not really the sort of thing you would expect to find in a school."

Pansy and Rachel paused, thinking.

"…. Maybe it's Dumbledore's." Rachel suggested. "He seems like the type of person that would have a strange magical object like that."

"Yeah," Pansy agreed. "Or someone within the castle could be hiding it or looking after for someone outside the castle- they say it's one of the safest places in the world after all.'

"True," Millicent acknowledged. "All the same, though, it is rather strange…"

Rachel soon found it felt strangely freeing to talk to someone other than her brother and not feel out of place and upset afterwards. She even found that she could hardly believe her ears when at dinner on her first evening at Parkinson Manor, both of Pansy's parents and her older sister Eliza- a tall, slim girl with long black hair and the same dark green eyes as Pansy and their father- asked all three girls how their first term at Hogwarts had gone and their thoughts on the castle, its grounds, and the Slytherin common room; and had actually listened to their responses.

"Ah, yes, I remember those windows; we saw the giant squid once in my fifth year." Michael Parkinson, Pansy's father nodded, upon Pansy's finishing her description of the common room.

"Has that massive portrait of Merlin on the wall still got that big gold frame around it?" Isabella asked.

"Yeah." Pansy confirmed nodding.

"He's a bit of a grump sometimes, that one," Eliza said. "But he's useful to have around because he gives great advice and is great friends with loads of the portraits all over the school, so he always knows what's going on about the place- or he finds out, one way or another."

"Is the Whomping Willow still there?" Isabella asked.

"The what?" Pansy frowned.

"The Whomping Willow." Isabella repeated. "It's this massive tree in the grounds- it's got a mind of its own and will attack anyone or anything that goes near it. It was planted our…" she paused to think, "…fourth year at Hogwarts, I think. There used to be a game to see who could touch the trunk without getting hurt, but then some Gryffindor second year nearly lost an eye so we were banned from going anywhere near it."

"Hmm… well I've never seen it," "We'll have to go and see where it is, girls." She said to Millicent and Rachel, who nodded. "I'll let you know if it's still there, Mother."

"Well, if you do find it, keep a good distance away." Isabella said. "I'm not having any of you lose any limbs on my account."

"Of course." Pansy agreed as Millicent and Rachel nodded again. "We're only going to look- I'd rather know where it is than run into it without any warning."

* * *

The next few days were by far the best of Rachel's holidays. Though the weather was still very cold and snowy, and so Pansy, Millicent and Rachel spent most of their time indoors, talking, playing exploding snap and taking quizzes from the many editions of Witch Weekly stacked on Pansy's desk, it was lovely to be back with her friends, talking and laughing and feeling genuinely comfortable and happy again.

On the morning of the twenty-ninth the three girls were eating breakfast in the dining room with Eliza when the doors to the dining room opened and Sebastian looked in, the black strap of a rucksack visible over his shoulder.

"Hello." He said, entering the room further when he saw the girls and smiling around.

"Hi, Sebastian," Pansy replied, looking at him in surprise.

"Hey." Millicent smiled back. Rachel waved, her mouth full of toast.

"Hi," Eliza replied with a quick grin, cutting up her bacon. "What are you doing here?"

"Our fathers have business meetings here all day," Sebastian explained, sitting down opposite Millicent and taking a piece of melon from the plate of fruit in front of him, "and my mother has gone to the Witch Weekly office in London for one of her socialite photo shoot/interview 'how-I-live-my-life' things; and because the last time I was left home on my own I had the house-elves brew some potions I developed that then exploded all over the kitchen-" he grinned sheepishly, "-I've been sent here for the day. You don't mind, do you?" he asked, his perceptive gaze darting from one of them to the other with their usual speed.

"No, not at all." The girls replied, shaking their heads with smiles.

"We haven't decided what we're going to do today, though." Pansy added.

"I'm fine with anything," Sebastian shrugged, now choosing a poached egg.

"The snow's not melted but it's calmed down a little." Eliza said, gesturing out of the rooms long windows. The long, thick green curtains were pulled back, providing a view of the snow coated grounds and the light grey, yet free of falling snow sky outside. "We could all go sledding down the big hill; we've got our two sleds, Pansy, and there're a few spare in the storage room- and Father and refreshed the movement charms last week."

This suggestion was met with agreement and after breakfast Eliza asked a house-elf, Karkey, to collect her, Pansy's and three other sleds from the storage room of the manor; the four girls and Sebastian bundled up in coats, scarves, hats and gloves (Sebastian taking his from his rucksack); called through the door of Pansy's father's study that they were going out- Isabella was at work- were told to stay safe; and left the Manor, Eliza accepting and handing around the wooden sleds Karkey had waiting for them in the foyer as they did so.

Though cold and rather grey outside, the air was rather refreshing on their faces as they walked along the streets surrounding Pansy's house, past several other enormous manors and smaller, more commonly sized houses alike, pulling their sleds behind them through the snow. Though strenuous, it was not as difficult as it could have been, thanks to the charms on the sleds, which, similar to broomsticks, moved of their own accord, though they were guided by their rope fashioned handles.

Soon enough they reached a snow covered park at the end of a cul-de-sac few streets away from Parkinson Mano, complete with a playground composed of a climbing frame and slide and at the far end, a simply enormous snow covered hill complete with a single evergreen tree at the very top.

"I take it that's the big hill?" Rachel asked, staring up at the hill as they crossed the park towards it.

"Yes indeed." Pansy replied with a grin, adjusting her grip on the handle of her sled.

"… Merlin, I'd forgotten just how big this hill is," Eliza said, looking up as they reached the base of the hill. "…Steep, isn't it?"

"Yes indeed." Pansy repeated with another grin, and it was with that the group started to climb.

"… R-right then." Eliza gasped, staggering to a halt as they reached the top of the hill. Recovering her breath somewhat, she turned to face the others, waiting until they, too, had recovered their breaths and nursed stitches in their sides before continuing. "If we're going to race, standard rules apply- bumping your opponents off course is acceptable, as is throwing snowballs, but knocking them off their sled is not- this hill is steep enough for that to be dangerous, so you will be disqualified from the race in question. Any questions?"

The others shook their heads, and, reaching out to their left, Eliza pulled two leaf covered twigs from one of the branches of the evergreen tree.

"No Muggles about are there?" she murmured.

The others looked around them cautiously.

"…No." Sebastian answered, continuing to look around them as a precaution as, nodding, Eliza took her wand from her coat pocket and transfigured the twigs into two plastic orange cones, which she then levitated down to a little way away from the base of the hill, placing them a few metres apart.

"We good, Sebastian?" She murmured, slipping her wand back into her pocket.

"Fine." Sebastian replied, nodding. Eliza grinned.

"Then let the games begin."

Nearly an hour and a quarter later, the race course had expanded to encompass the entirety of the park, and Rachel, Pansy, Millicent and Sebastian were hurtling through at top speed, being watched carefully by Eliza, who had elected to umpire. Millicent was in the lead, hunching over her sled to pick up speed; Rachel and Pansy were neck and neck, battling for second place; Sebastian was coming last, but his eyes were narrowed determinedly and he gained on the others, reaching out as he did so and scooping up a fistful of snow...

"Wha- cheat!" Pansy exclaimed, skidding to a halt and ducking her head as Sebastian drew level with her and flung the snowball he had made at her face. Rachel shot forwards, taking advantage of Pansy's stopping to take second place.

"No it's not- you're still on your sled!" Sebastian shouted over his shoulder, racing off after Rachel.

"He's right Pansy!" Eliza affirmed. Pansy huffed and urged her sled back into motion.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes determinedly as he gained on Rachel, urging his sled forwards with all his might. She was ahead of him; moving at full speed, approaching the playground equipment and getting closer and closer to Millicent by the second… but he, too, was moving at full speed and rapidly gaining on _her_ … in fact, he need only angle himself slightly to the right and he would be on course to rid himself of another opponent…

"Aaahhh!" Rachel squealed as Sebastian's sled crashed into hers, sending her into a tailspin and forcing her to break sharply to avoid falling. Snow flew into the air as Rachel braked, splattering her from head to foot, but Sebastian kept moving, increasing his speed as he saw Pansy pass Rachel out of the corner of his eye and then, having cleaned her glasses and dusted herself off, Rachel re-joined the race, too.

Turning his full attention back to Millicent as he followed her around the perimeter of the playground equipment, Sebastian grinned. The finish line was in sight and Millicent had grown confident in her lead and slowed down slightly; all he had to do was increase his speed just a little bit more... he urged his sled forwards, drawing almost level with her; if he just threw another snowball he would be in the lead-

 _SMACK!_

Sebastian gasped, jumping as a snowball smacked him in the back of the neck, soaking his scarf through to his skin.

" _HA!"_ He heard Pansy's voice shout from behind him. "TAKE THAT SEBASTIAN!"

Sebastian ignored her, redoubling his focus on winning the race and scoping up a fistful of snow and crushed it into a ball-like shape with one hand-

But Millicent had turned around at Pansy's shout and Sebastian saw her face was an utter picture of determination. She wanted to win, he realised; she wanted to win very badly indeed.

The snowball fell from his hand; and just as he drew level with her, his other hand tugged at the rope controlling his sled, slowing down and falling behind Millicent, a moment before she crossed the finish line.

Millicent laughed triumphantly, turning around as she "Bad luck Sebastian; good race though."

"Yeah." Sebastian replied slightly dazedly, reaching out and shaking her hand, wondering as he let go what had just happened. One minute he had been on course to win, preparing to throw the snowball; the next he had dropped the snowball and was slowing down; securing her win. He had seen how determined she was to do so, yes; but why had he dropped the snowball and slowed down? Why had it mattered? He thought for a moment, grappling with his confusion, but no explanation came to mind. Bewildered by this sudden uncertainty- having always relied and prided himself on his ability to analyse every situation and emotion with little-to-no difficulty- Sebastian shook his head to clear it, but was distracted from thinking about the matter further by the arrival over the finish line of Pansy and Rachel, neck and neck on their sleds, splattered with snow and giggling.

"Good race everyone," Pansy said, dusting snow from her coat and hat.

"Yeah, good race." Rachel agreed with a grin, doing the same.

"Another round?" Millicent suggested.

"Sure." Rachel nodded.

"Yeah," Sebastian agreed

"How about a free for all?" Pansy suggested, "No umpire and we try and snow each other down while racing; see who wins."

"Sounds good," Millicent nodded; Sebastian and Rachel did the same.

"Free for all, is it?" Eliza asked with a grin, approaching them all; everyone nodded. "Right then, everyone in position."

Another hour and quarter later found the girls and Sebastian exhausted from racing and very hungry indeed. It was starting to snow quite a bit, too, and a sharp wind was picking up, so they decided to return to Parkinson Manor for lunch.

They were about halfway home when Pansy slid the rope attached to her sled up her arm and grabbed hold of Millicent and Rachel's arms.

"Don't look now, but look over there." She murmured quietly, letting go of their arms, having attracted their attention, and nodding to their left.

"… Do we look or not?" Millicent asked, her brow furrowing.

"Yes, look," Pansy said slightly exasperatedly. "Parvati and Padma Patil at nine o'clock."

Turning, Rachel and Millicent saw that she was quite right. Parvati and Padma Patil were walking up the opposite side of the street to them, the latter listening amusedly as the former talked animatedly.

"Do they live around here?" Rachel asked.

"Yeah- a couple of streets away from the park; unfortunately," Pansy replied, her face morphing into a glare as they drew level with the twins. Padma looked away, expressionless; but Parvati glared back fiercely.

"Come on Pansy; no cat-fighting today." Eliza said, poking Pansy in the shoulder.

"… Fine." Pansy muttered after a moment, making sure to turn her head pointedly away from Parvati and stick her nose in the air as they continued on their way.

* * *

"… Are you sure you've read that right?" Millicent asked through a fit of giggles, leaning over to look at the horoscope section of that week's edition of Witch Weekly at half-past nine that evening as Pansy and Rachel dissolved into giggles, too. The girls were sitting once again on Pansy's bed, eating sweets and celebrating the end of their holidays- they would be going back to Hogwarts on the thirty-first.

"Y-yeah," Rachel answered, turning the magazine towards her.

Millicent read her horoscope aloud. "' _You will find yourself finding answers to questions you thought you had forgotten. Don't be afraid of these moments, embrace them; and you will find your magic is stronger than ever, and will continue to grow stronger with every answer and embraced realisation.'_ What a loud of tosh." Millicent swapped the magazine for a chocolate frog, rolling her eyes. "How am I supposed to think I'd forgotten something? That doesn't even make sense!"

"Funny though." Rachel grinned, biting into a chocolate-filled cauldron cake.

"That may be true, but you never know," Pansy said wisely, "If you do end up finding yourself discovering answers to questions you thought you had forgotten, Millicent, you can't say you weren't forewarned." She grinned. "Though if you do decide to embrace your answer-finding moments please don't turn against us with your stronger magic."

Millicent and Rachel laughed.

"I'll try my best." Millicent grinned back.

Thirty-five minutes past five the following afternoon found Rachel and Millicent standing in the foyer of Parkinson Manor, their bags over their shoulders and floo powder in hand, saying goodbye to Pansy and her mother. Pansy's father was out in meetings with Pansy's uncle and Eliza had gone back to France that morning to get ready for the new school term at Beauxbatons.

"Thank you very much for having me, Isabella." Rachel said to Pansy's mother with a smile.

"Yeah- thank you for having me, too." Millicent said, smiling too.

"You're very welcome, girls." Isabella replied, smiling back. "Now, you'd better go first Rachel- your parents want you back by quarter-to."

"Yeah." Rachel nodded, hoping her smile didn't look as strained as it suddenly felt. It certainly seemed so, for Isabella didn't appear to notice anything. Pansy and Millicent, however, seemed to see, or at least anticipate the uncomfortableness the mention of her parents.

"See you on the train." They both murmured as they hugged her goodbye.

"Yeah; see you." Rachel replied. Steeling herself, she threw her handful of floo powder into the fireplace, took off her glasses and picked them safely into her jacket pocket and stepped carefully into the now emerald green flames, tucking her elbows into her sides as she did so. "Sixteen Gloriana Street Heathgate, Hampstead!" she instructed. The last thing she saw was the blurry figures of Isabella, Pansy and Millicent and the purple walls of the foyer of Parkinson Manor before she felt as though she was being pulled down an enormous drain and she closed her eyes tightly as she started to spin at an alarming rate…

…She was going home…

 **A/N: Please review! :)**


	15. Chapter 15: Presents and Parents

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else that may be referenced in this chapter. The** _ **bold italics underline**_ **texts are direct quotes from the** _ **Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone**_ **book. Google Translate was used for any language other than English.**

 **A/N: Gargantuan thank you to you all. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)**

 **Twitter: Prof_McGonagal**

 **Chapter 15: Presents and Parents**

 _The last thing she saw was the blurry figures of Isabella, Pansy and Millicent and the purple walls of the foyer of Parkinson Manor before she felt as though she was being pulled down an enormous drain and she closed her eyes tightly as she started to spin at an alarming rate…_

… _She was going home…_

"Mistress Rachel!"

Rachel opened her eyes, fumbling in her pocket for her glasses with one hand and reaching out to find a wall to steady herself on as something crunched beneath her feet and she stopped spinning just as abruptly as she had upon her arrival at Parkinson Manor. Pressing her hand into the brick wall to her left as she found it and pulling her glasses from her pocket with her right hand, Rachel unfolded the temples and slid her glasses onto the end of her nose, letting go of the wall and looking around her as the world came back into focus.

She was standing in the fireplace of her home's kitchen, the ashes and broken pieces of various logs beneath her feet. Ceesy was beaming at her from the table in the middle of the kitchen, upon which sat a clearly freshly baked apple pie. "You is back!"

"Hi Ceesy," Rachel smiled back, stepping out of the fireplace and wiping her feet on the mat before it. "It's nice to see you again."

"And you Mistress." Ceesy replied. "Did you have a good time with your friends?"

"Yes, thank you." Rachel nodded. "Are we the only two home?"

"No, Mistress," Ceesy shook her head. "Your Mother and Father are in the study."

"Oh," Rachel's heart sank slightly. Marcus wasn't home- she had to be around her parents alone. "Where's Marcus?"

"He went round to the Boot's house, Mistress." Ceesy answered. "If you leave your bag in here I will tend to your clothes and put your things back in your bedroom."

"Thank you Ceesy." Rachel smiled. Dropping her bag from her shoulder to the patch of floor beside the fireplace she left the kitchen, pausing as she entered the foyer. The door to her father's study stood to her left, and a little further along from it, the stairs that would take her to the sanctuary that was her bedroom. Knowing she had to let her parents know she was home- and home on time for that matter, if she ever wanted to be allowed to go to Pansy's house again- Rachel took a deep, inward, breath and crossed the foyer to the door to the door to her father's study, and knocked.

"Come in." Flavius called. Rachel turned the doorknob and entered.

Flavius's study was a small, square room. A large square bookshelf filled with books faced the door, standing beside a window that offered a view of the patio, grass and high brick wall that was the Belby's back garden. The bottom half of the walls were panelled with a light brown wood, and the top half was covered with blue and bronze stripped wallpaper, which was unembellished save for a round clock that hung on the wall adjacent to the door. The clock faced the study's desk, an enormous dark mahogany affair with clawed feet that took up the majority of the room. Piles of parchment were stacked neatly on the desk, all of them topped with a raven-shaped paperweight. Flavius sat in the plush, high backed swivel chair behind his desk, spinning a quill between his fingers, and Susanne lounged across the two wooden, softly cushioned chairs before the desk. Both of them were smiling, but their smiles faded away and their expressions closed off and hardened as their heads turned towards the door and their gazes landed on Rachel. Rachel paused just past the threshold, her heart sinking, but nevertheless, she mustered up a smile.

"Hi," she said, raising a hand in a wave. "I'm back- on time and everything."

Her parents glanced as one towards the clock on the wall; it read forty-three minutes past five.

"Yes." Flavius said curtly.

"Hello." Susanne added tightly. A lump rose in Rachel's throat. She had been so happy at Pansy's house, where the adults had actually been nice to her and treated her like a human being; and had asked questions about and were interested in life as a Slytherin; so returning home and going back to being treated like nothing by her own parents stung anew. For several moments she simply stood just over the threshold of her father's study, staring at her parents, struggling with her emotions and wanting to say something, but knowing, deep down, that it would be useless to do so. Her parents looked back at her; and while there was a very pronounced coldness to both of their expressions, there was something more to Flavius's. He was looking at her as though expecting her to say something, Rachel realised after a moment, but what it was she couldn't quite place…

"Um, thank you, for letting me go." She tried. Her parents said nothing, nor did their expressions change, and Rachel's throat tightened further as the lump in it rose higher than ever. Turning, she hurried from the room and up the stairs, cursing herself inwardly as tears spiked the corners of her eyes-

"Rachel; you're back!"

Rachel looked up. Marcus and Oliver were emerging from her brother's bedroom, the former holding the miniature model of a skeleton of a dragon that flew once it was built, Rachel had given him for Christmas. "Hi Marcus; Oliver," she said, feeling a wave of relief at the sight of her brother. "Ceesy told me you were out."

"Hey," Oliver grinned back.

"Hi- and we came back to get this." Marcus held up the dragon skeleton, which was still in its box. "Are you okay?" he asked, looking at her in concern

"Yeah; yeah, I'm fine," Rachel wiped her eyes behind her glasses, managing a smile. "Just Mum and Dad, you know…"

"I can imagine," Marcus grimaced. "Ignoring them, though; how was your holiday?"

"Really good; I had a great time." Rachel replied, smiling genuinely for the first time since she arrived home. "How's Artemisia?"

"Great, and she's good; sleeping in her cage when I checked after lunch," Marcus smiled back, "We were just about to go to Oliver's and build and fly this dragon in the garden, if you want to come with us."

"My neighbours are away and the lady in the house behind mine starts work at five pm every weekday, so their no risk of any Muggles seeing us." Oliver said.

Rachel nodded, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Thanks." She smiled, following the boys as they passed her and headed down the stairs, their shoulders bumping together on occasion.

* * *

Ten minutes to eleven on the morning of Wednesday the first of January found the Belby family passing through the barrier that lead to Platform nine and three-quarters; Rachel with an inward air of relief. Her last few days at home had not been much fun; she had spent a little time with Marcus and Oliver, but the renewed air of her parents' disapproval, which seemed to have increased with her going to stay at Pansy's, seemed inflict itself over practically everything in her house; something that did little to make Rachel feel at home. It soon became clear that the only time she felt relaxed and happy were when she was away from her house, and in her bedroom, since then she was not constantly surrounded by Ravenclaw memorabilia and as long as she followed their rules by keeping the door either closed or ajar all times, her parents seemed content to act as though her bedroom was not there.

"Have a good term, Marcus," Flavius said with a grin, clapping his son on the back as the family reached the doors to one of the carriages halfway down the school train, ignoring Rachel completely. Rachel looked away, willing herself not to get upset.

"Yes, and keep up with your studies." Susanne added, hugging Marcus before he could protest; she, too, ignored Rachel completely. Swallowing the harsh lump that rose in her throat determinedly, and deciding the best thing to do would be to get away from her parents lest she burst into tears, Rachel busied herself with lifting Artemisia's cage and her trunk from her trolley onto the Hogwarts Express.

"Yeah, I will." Marcus agreed quickly, smiling briefly and squirming out of his mother's hold to help Rachel, who, having lifted Artemisia in her cage into the carriage, was struggling to do the same with her trunk. Rachel gave him a grateful smile, which faded away slightly as she caught sight of Flavius lifting Marcus; pet rat Newt in his cage and then Marcus's trunk up into the carriage. Taking a deep, inward breath, she turned back to face her parents as Flavius finished putting Marcus's things on the train and stepped back to stand beside Susanne.

"Bye Mum; bye Dad." She said, offering them a small smile. Neither Susanne or Flavius smiled back.

"Goodbye." Susanne replied curtly, looking over her shoulder at the small crowd of students and families on the platform around them.

"Yes." Flavius replied in the same manner, doing the same.

Marcus looked annoyed. "That's it?" he demanded of their parents as the whistle blew and Rachel scrambled to get on the train, her head ducked to hide her upset. "You're not going to see either of us for three months- longer, if we don't come home for Easter- the least you can do is say goodbye to Rachel proper-"

"You should get on the train," Susanne interrupted curtly; she and Flavius turning back to face Marcus as steam began to gush from the chimney of the scarlet train.

Seeing the steam around him and realising he had no time to argue further, Marcus turned to towards the train door. Rachel held out her hand to help him up into the train, her eyes unusually bright; Marcus took it with a smile, climbing up into the carriage. When he turned around to close the train door behind him, he saw Flavius and Susanne with their backs to the train, weaving their way across the platform through the crowds of waving parents and relatives. They passed through the archway to Kings Cross Station without looking back.

"T-thank you, for sticking up for me; especially now Mum and Dad are annoyed with you." Rachel said quietly with a small sniff as the train pulled away from the station. Turning to face his sister, Marcus saw she had moved to stand beside him at the window, and was wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "Merlin, I've got to get better at not crying." She breathed, half-laughing.

"You shouldn't have to cry at all." Marcus pointed out. "And you don't have to thank me; and I can deal with Mum and Dad- you and I are sticking together, remember?"

Rachel nodded and took a deep, steady breath, clearly putting herself back together. When she met his gaze anew Marcus saw the tears had gone from her eyes, and as the train rounded the corner and platform nine and three quarters vanished from view out the carriage door window, she visibly relaxed and she smiled back at him gratefully; looking as though the weight of the world- though in this case it was the judgement of their parents- had been lifted from her shoulders. "Yeah, I remember."

"Rachel!"

Rachel turned around as Millicent burst through the door to the carriage to their left, slightly out of breath.

"Hi." Rachel grinned.

"Hey," Millicent grinned back, recovering her breath. "I thought I wasn't going to get here before you started off down the entire train. Everyone's down in the front carriage."

"Oh, okay." Rachel said, half-glancing at Marcus; wanting to go with Millicent but not wanting to leave her brother alone.

"Go." Marcus said with a smile, catching her glance and gesturing as though to wave her away. "Oliver and I've always tried to get a compartment in this carriage and failing that the next one along- I'll find him eventually."

Rachel smiled back. "Thank you; again." She said, hugging her brother briefly.

"It's fine." He replied. "I'll see you later."

"See you." Rachel waved, picking up Artemisia's cage and placing it carefully on top of her trunk, which she then dragged after her as she followed Millicent back through the doors she had burst through, and Marcus waved back and carried Newt in his cage ad his trunk off down the carriage in search of Oliver. Rachel couldn't help but feel rather strange as she walked. She had known she and Marcus were not going to spend every train ride together but she hadn't ever thought that she would be walking to sit with a group of Slytherins- or that she would be Slytherin herself for that matter- and as much as she liked and cared for her friends and was relatively comfortable in Slytherin, she still felt rather surreal walking along, especially since she was returning to her new normality at Hogwarts from her new one at home for the first time. Shaking her head to clear it and supposing she would get used to the feeling and circumstances over time, Rachel increased her pace to fall as much into step beside Millicent as she could while dragging her things behind her.

"So, who's everyone?" She asked, curious.

"Pansy, Daphne, Tracey, Draco, Vincent and Gregory," Millicent explained. "We've got two compartments opposite each other."

"Right," Rachel nodded.

Suddenly, the door to the closest compartment on their left opened and both girls were forced to stop abruptly as a vaguely familiar looking wiry boy with thick blonde hair, startlingly bright blue eyes and lightly tanned skin stuck his head out. He, too, paused on sight of the girls and after a moment, Rachel recognised him. It was Terence Higgs, the boy who had shown her, Millicent and Pansy the way to the Owlery.

It seemed he recognised them, too, for a split-second after Rachel placed him, he grinned apologetically. "Rachel and Millicent, right? Terence Higgs, remember?" he asked; continuing as they nodded, smiling back. "Sorry to stop you I was just looking for the trolley lady; have you seen her?"

"It's fine and no, sorry." Rachel and Millicent replied, shaking their heads.

Terence swore softly. "Nothing yet Yatin," he said to someone over his shoulder, who groaned. "Have a good day girls," he said, turning back to face Rachel and Millicent.

"And you." Rachel smiled; Millicent nodded.

Terence smiled back and ducked back into his compartment, closing the door behind him.

As they passed, Rachel and Millicent glanced through the glass door of the compartment and saw a tall, thin Indian boy with shoulder length dark hair flop dramatically down into a seat, clutching his stomach, as though he had not eaten in a week. Exchanging amused looks at the antics, Rachel and Millicent continued along the carriage.

"Here we are!" Millicent announced with a grin after a few more minutes walk, pausing in between two opposing compartments and gesturing between them. Following her gesturing, Rachel saw that Pansy, Daphne and Tracey were sitting in the one to their left and Draco, Gregory and Vincent to their right. Raising a nodding in greeting to the three boys, who nodded back in kind, Rachel followed Millicent into the compartment shared by the other girls as her friend slid

"Hi guys." Rachel smiled around, really a sense of relief at being back amongst her fellow Slytherins; she was definitely back in her Hogwarts normality now.

"Hi," they smiled back.

"How was your Christmas?" Daphne asked as Rachel lifted her trunk and Artemisia in her cage up onto the luggage racks.

"Yeah, it was okay," Rachel answered, trying to keep her smile as natural as she could as she sat down. Only Pansy and Millicent knew any real details about her home life and her relationship with her family, and she rather wanted to keep it that way; as much as she liked Daphne and Tracey she didn't really want everyone to know all her business, for it was rather embarrassing and very uncomfortable; and the last thing she wanted was Zabini, or some other mean spirited person, finding out and using it against her. "How was yours?"

"Really nice," Daphne nodded. "It was a bit strange being home at first- it's a lot quieter than Hogwarts and Astoria- my little sister, you know- would not stop asking me questions, but other than that it was good. Tracey's was baffling though- she spent the entire holidays making potions; even on Christmas Day."

"I like making potions, so I had fun; and my Christmas was good." Tracey said. "And the potion brewing wasn't just for fun- the Potions Association of the Ministry of Magic research committee is running an international program in July for school-age students interested in potion-making, and to enter you have to send in the most complicated potion you can brew. It's very prestigious and the deadline for entries is the ninth of this month, so I had to prepare something in the holidays, all I have to do is the magic bit of my potion in the castle and send it off." She tilted her head to one side as she spoke, biting her lip slightly anxiously. "I just hope a Shrinking Solution is complicated enough for my age category."

Pansy stared at her. "… You're joking, right?" she said. Tracey shook her head, smiling sheepishly. Pansy shook her head too; though rather incredulously. "Tracey, if you can brew a Shrinking Solution, which I believe you can, you'll have no problem getting into that program. Trust me, you'll see."

A sharp wind picked up as the train rattled through the country, whipping at the trees, bushes and grass outside and pushing against the window panes. Rachel, Pansy, Millicent, Daphne and Tracey passed the time talking, reading Witch Weekly, playing Exploding Snap and napping at times and when the trolley-lady came down the train, Draco, Vincent and Gregory joined the girls in their compartment and the first years pooled the confectionary they purchased as they had on Halloween. Draco also brought with him a second set of Exploding Snap cards and a very hectic game commenced that ended in more explosions than success.

Night had fallen by the time the Hogwarts Express slowed to a stop at Hogsmeade station. Looking around as she, Pansy, Millicent, Daphne and Tracey jumped down from the train onto the snow covered platform, having been separated from Draco, Gregory and Vincent in the crowd in the corridor of their carriage, Rachel saw that Hagrid was not there to greet the first years this time.

"Where do we go from here?" she asked.

Pansy shrugged, looking around, too, "Let's just follow everyone else." She said and so the girls joined the crowd of students walking along the platform from the train. Emerging from the platform onto a rough track of mad, the girls found themselves facing at least a hundred stagecoaches waiting for the students; and while the shafts at the front of each coach were empty, they were evidently pulled by magic or some kind of invisible horse, for as students climbed into them and closed the doors, the coach set off, swaying and bumping along the track in the procession they stood in.

The girls climbed into a coach together, and, true to its apparent form, the moment Daphne closed the coach door behind them, the coach set off behind the one in front of it. The inside of the coach smelt faintly of straw and mould, but the cushioned seats within were relatively comfortable. Rachel looked out of the coach's small window, watching the trees and bushes on either side of the track fall behind them and they drew nearer to, and then passed through a pair of superb twisted iron gates, bookended by stone columns crowned with winged boars. The coach increased its pace as it made it's away up the long, sloping driveway that lead up to the castle; which towered over them a snow covered mass of towers and turrets. Soon enough, the coach swept around the top of the driveway and swayed to a halt, and the five girls climbed out and joined the students climbing out of their own coaches in walking through the front doors to the castle and then through the Entrance Hall into the Great Hall, where, along with the rest of the school, dinner awaited them. Rachel caught sight of Marcus across the Entrance Hall with Oliver and waved a hand, grinning; Marcus grinned back, returning the gesture.

"Oh, at last; I'm starving." Daphne breathed as the girls entered the Great Hall and made their way over to empty seats at the Slytherin Table, where Draco, Vincent and Gregory already sat, a few seats down from Nott and Zabini.

"Hey, you're back!" Nott grinned at Pansy, catching sight of her leading Rachel and Millicent down the table. Zabini glanced up from his meal as Nott spoke, but returned his attention to his food, expressionless, after he had seen who it was, passing only to narrow his eyes in distaste at Rachel, who glared back, instantly irritated.

"Hey, and yeah," Pansy grinned back at Nott as she, Rachel and Millicent, sat down on the opposing bench to Nott and Zabini; Rachel making sure Millicent sat opposite the latter, which she did with a slight roll of her eyes. "How was Christmas at Hogwarts?" Pansy asked Nott. "That mirror you found sounds amazing."

Nott's grin faded slightly. "Well, Christmas was incredible," he answered, as the girls started on dinner. "but the mirror's gone. I went back a few times in the days after Christmas to make sure it was still there and, you know, to see myself as Editor of Transfiguration Today and everything, and the last time I did, Dumbledore was there."

"Dumbledore?" Pansy repeated, her eyes wide.

"Yeah," Nott nodded. "He said that the mirror, as I'd figured out, shows us what we want more than anything else- ' _ **the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts**_ ' Dumbledore said; but even though it does that; the mirror won't give anyone knowledge or truth; and that men have practically died in front if it, spellbound by what they've seen; or else they've gone loony- not knowing if what they see in the mirror is real, or actually possible. He said that the mirror was going to be moved the next day and I wasn't to look for it again; though I'd now be prepared. ' _ **It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live**_ ', apparently.'" He shrugged. "I went back to the classroom the next day though, to see if the mirror actually was gone and it was."

"Really?" Pansy looked disappointed. "That's a shame; I was looking forward to seeing it."

"Me too… still, I wonder where the mirror is now," Millicent tilted her head to one side, spearing a piece of steak with her fork.

"The Ministry, probably," Rachel shrugged, pouring more pumpkin juice into her goblet, "In the Department of Mysteries, I can't think of anywhere else it would fit."

"Mmm." Nott pointed his knife at her, agreeing. "That or Dumbledore's office; that way it's still in his possession- if he wants it to be or if it's his, I don't know- but there's no chance of any students seeing it."

"Well, wherever it is," Millicent said. "I still stand by the fact that it's a strange thing to keep in a school."

* * *

Lessons started up again the following day, and as the remainder week went by, Rachel well and truly settled back into life at Hogwarts; talking and laughing and reading Witch Weekly in with Pansy and Millicent; participating in classes; doing homework; writing in her leather-bound notebook and generally enjoying life. The exception was, of course, whenever she failed and Zabini succeeded, any encounter with Zabini, really; and the first years' Potions lesson on Friday morning. They were continuing with their work on the Forgetfulness Potion by starting to learn how to brew it; and try as she might, Rachel could not get hers to thicken.

"I'm never going to get it right," she laminated, dropping her head and slumping miserably against Pansy, the quill she had used to take notes at the start of the lesson hanging from her fingers, as the three girls made their way along the second floor corridor to Defence Against the Dark Arts at the end of Potions.

Pansy giggled, patting Rachel on the head. "You will; one day."

A derisive snicker sounded from behind them; Rachel whirled around defensively, dropping her quill in her indignation. Zabini stood behind her, Pansy and Millicent, beside Nott; his eyes narrowed in scornful amusement. His own Forgetfulness Potion had been, annoyingly, perfectly brewed.

"What?" Rachel demanded sharply, raising an eyebrow challengingly at Zabini.

"Your having any hope is pointless to the point of amusement." Zabini replied swiftly. Rolling his eyes, Nott continued down the corridor and leant against the wall beside the door to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, where Daphne, Tracey, Draco, Gregory and Vincent already stood, waiting from Professor Quirrell.

"Eavesdropping were you?" Rachel snapped back at Zabini, folding her arms and glaring at him. "That's interesting- I thought you didn't take kindly to that sort of thing. Makes you look a bit of a _hypocrite_ , doesn't it?"

"I don't take kindly to it." Zabini's eyes narrowed further as he glared back at her. "But I do take kindly to honesty and there's no hope in hell of you ever getting the Forgetfulness Potion right- or any potion for that matter." He finished bitingly, brushing past her and walking over to where Nott was standing, leaning against the wall before the Defence Against the Arts classroom. Rachel stared after him, stung and fuming.

"Ignore him; he's a git," Millicent squeezed Rachel's arm.

"Yeah, don't work yourself up," Pansy said comfortingly. "C'mon let's go." She took Rachel's other arm and Rachel allowed herself to be guided towards the classroom, now imagining Zabini falling face first into his perfectly brewed Forgetfulness Potion.

"Rachel!" Rachel snapped from her thoughts and turned at the sound of her name and saw Marcus and Oliver standing behind her, the former holding her dropped quill. "You dropped this." He held out her quill.

"Oh, thanks." Rachel smiled, taking her quill. Marcus smiled back but made

"Mate, we have to get the book before Charms." Oliver said anxiously, running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah- grab me a copy, will you?" Marcus asked. "I've just got to talk to Rachel for a minute."

"Sure; better make it quick, though; the bell's going to go any minute." Oliver replied, dashing off down the corridor through the small swirl of students in the corridor in the direction of the Library. Pansy and Millicent let go of Rachel's arms and moved to stand by the DADA classroom, too, leaving

"What is it?" Rachel asked Marcus.

"I overheard a bit of your conversation just now," Marcus said. "Is that boy picking on you?" he nodded towards Zabini. "Whatshisname- Blaise Zabini? Irma Zabini's brother?"

"He's just a git." Rachel shrugged, pushing her glasses up her nose.

"So he _is_ picking on you." Marcus folded his arms. "Why didn't you tell me? Do you need me to have a word with him? Tell him to leave you alone?" he stared towards Zabini as he spoke, his eyes narrowed.

"No Marcus; don't talk to him; it won't make a difference," Rachel grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"You don't know what I'm going to say to him." Marcus said, glaring at Zabini.

"He'll just be rude to you, too." Rachel said, not letting go of Marcus's arm. "I didn't tell you because it wasn't necessary- Zabini and I have never gotten along. You don't have to worry about me, Marcus, I make sure to give back as good as I get." She grinned.

Marcus hesitated for a moment, looking at back at her, then he relaxed and smiled back. "Okay." He said, "but if you ever need or want me to talk to him just say the word."

"Okay." Rachel agreed, nodding. Marcus eyed her shrewdly.

"You promise?"

"Yeah." Rachel nodded again as the bell rang.

Marcus swore under his breath. "I've got to go; bye." He said, starting forwards and setting off in a run in the direction of the stairs to the third floor.

"Bye." Rachel raised a hand to his retreating back before hurrying and joining the end of the line of her fellow first year Slytherins as they all entered the classroom at Professor Quirrell's invitation.

* * *

As the next week and two days went by life well and truly fell into it's usual routine and continued as normal; though lessons increased slightly in difficulty as the teacher's seemed to think, rightly, that the first years should have more of a handle on their magic now they had been at Hogwarts for four months. On the morning of the tenth of January, however, something happened that put a slight wrench in the normal routine.

" _Buon compleanno_ brother dear!" Irma Zabini smirked, dashing into the Great Hall and swooping down over her brother as they first years and most of the school were fishing off the lasts of their breakfast. Pushing Zabini's scrambled eggs on toast away from him and ignoring his quelling glare Irma sat down in the empty seat beside him and pulled from behind her back a square object beautifully wrapped in white and gold striped wrapping paper and tied with a white ribbon. "Well go on- open it!" Irma urged Zabini.

"What's going on?" Daphne asked slightly amusedly, watching as Zabini rolled his eyes and started to open the gift.

"It's Blaise's birthday." Nott explained with a grin. "He asked for it to be kept quiet, but clearly Irma's elected to ignore him."

"Ta-da!" Irma exclaimed, smirking smugly as Zabini finished unwrapping what looked like a plain black notebook filled with thick yellow parchment that looked from the outside as though each piece had been lined many times. _"L'ho ordinato dall'Italia."_

" _Grazie sorella."_ Zabini replied, meeting his sister's gaze. Irma looked pleased.

" _Prego."_ She replied, reaching for a piece of toast still on the toast rack, though she frowned slightly as she saw that other students had letters and copies of _the Daily Prophet_ in front of them; the post had come fifteen minutes ago. " _Avete sentito da Madre_?" she asked her brother.

Shutters seemed to close behind Zabini's eyes and his expression became more closed off than Rachel had ever seen it.

But Irma seemed to get an answer to her question for as Zabini slipped his notebook and the wrappings it had come in into his bag, she stood up, patting him on the arm. " _Probabilmente sta arrivando,_ " She said softly.

Zabini shrugged, expressionless. Exhaling with narrowed eyes, Irma spread some jam on her toast and sashayed down to the Slytherin table to her friends.

Zabini pulled his breakfast back towards him and stared at it as expressionlessly as he continued to eat. Pansy opened her mouth to say something to him, but then seemed to think better of it and closed it again. When the bell for the start of classes rang, Zabini stood up and shouldered his bag as though it was any other day.

"You coming?" he asked Nott.

"Yeah." Nott drained the last of his pumpkin juice, stood up, shouldered his bag too, and the two left the hall together.

Exchanging glances, the rest of the first years followed, unanimously deciding not to say anything. Not even Rachel felt any kind of good feeling about there being something clearly going on with Zabini on his birthday; as much as she disliked him she knew from her own experience how horrible life could be sometimes; and she rather thought it must be especially horrible to have something wrong on a birthday.

But whatever had caused Zabini to close down so very much didn't seem to be bothering him at all by the time the rest of the first years joined him and Nott outside the Potions classroom before Potions. He mostly looked his usual haughty self, though a faint smirk was playing around his lips and Nott was snickering, grinning broadly.

"What's so funny?" Pansy asked him.

"Long story." Nott shook his head, ceasing to laugh as the Gryffindors arrived and lined up before the dungeon door, too.

Two days after Zabini's birthday, however, at breakfast, a magnificent Hawk-like Owl carrying a medium sized, rather heavy looked square white box with an Italian word embossed onto the lid in fancy black text landed in front of him. A black ribbon was tied around it, and tucked into that was a professionally printed white card with the words _Buon compleanno!_ on the upwards facing side.

Zabini put it in his bag without looking at it.

 **A/N: Please review! :)**


	16. Chapter 16: A Birthday and a Brother

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else that may be referenced in this chapter.**

 **A/N: Tremendous** **thank yous to you all. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)**

 **Twitter: Prof_McGonagal**

 **Chapter 16: A Birthday and a Brother**

 _Two days after Zabini's birthday, however, at breakfast, a magnificent Hawk-like Owl carrying a medium sized, rather heavy looked square white box with an Italian word embossed onto the lid in fancy black text landed in front of him. A black ribbon was tied around it, and tucked into that was a professionally printed white card with the words Buon compleanno! on the upwards facing side._

 _Zabini put it in his bag without looking at it._

Rachel couldn't help but start to feel slightly nervous over the next few weeks, for two, she felt, equally important reasons. The first was that her twelfth birthday was fast approaching on the 18th of February, and it would be the first birthday she would have at Hogwarts, and the first birthday she would have since she was sorted outside of Ravenclaw. What the response from he family would be, if there was one, she didn't know- especially with the way she and Marcus had left things with their parents at the end of the holidays- so as much as the feel-good feeling she had had about her birthdays for the past eleven years still clung to the thought of the day, there was a definite sense of nervousness associated with it, too.

The second was that exams were to be held at the end of May, and though that was several months away, getting top marks was an essential part of Rachel's plan and ambition to become Minister for Magic. Getting good marks would help her to ensure that she would get a job or an internship that she could turn into a job when she graduated Hogwarts. They would too, put her in a good light with the Professors when the time came for them to choose who in her year would be Prefects and then Head Girl. But, perhaps most importantly for Rachel's current place in life, getting good marks in first year would ensure that she was allowed to continue into second year, as well as starting the fulfilment of her personal desire to get nothing but good marks throughout her time at Hogwarts; so a sense of nervousness about the quality of her homework and future revision notes and then her exam marks existed in her stomach, too.

To combat her nerves, Rachel wrote out her feelings into her leather bound notebook and resolved to work harder than ever in classes, particularly Potions, which she had a feeling would be her downfall. These things distracted her from thinking about her birthday and made her feel as though she had less of a chance of failing; especially when she took to studying in the afternoons and at night, after classes had concluded for the day.

Quite outside of Rachel's head, time was passing and other things were happening about the school. Irma Zabini's friends threw her a very loud birthday party in an empty classroom near the forbidden corridor on the third floor on the ninth of February and landed themselves in detention, much to their very vocal indignation, and Rachel noticed that a white box identical to the one Zabini received arrived or Irma on the eleventh; Pansy starting work on designing new pair of dress robes, determined that they would be her best work yet.

"Ugh!" she groaned one afternoon in the library, throwing down her quill in frustration.

"What?" Millicent asked as she and Rachel looked up from their Charms homework.

"I can't get these ruffles right." Pansy said, drawing a line through her sketch and folding her parchment over to start again; she had finished her own Charms homework fifteen minutes earlier. "And if I can't draw them there's no way in hell I'm going to be able to make-"

"Shh!" someone hissed from behind them; turning in their seats, the three girls saw Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger sitting at a table covered in several stacks of books, the latter holding a finger to her lips, glaring at Pansy.

"-them." Pansy finished, glaring back at Granger, turning back to her sketch as Harry Potter joined the two Gryffindors, carrying yet another stack of books. Rachel watched them curiously for a few moments, wondering why they were reading so many books, then hastened to turn back to her Charms essay as the sight of a book of famous spell makers reminded her of it.

But no matter how much she wrote, read and revised her homework, Rachel rather doubted that nothing would really and truly appease the jumble of emotions she felt in the pit of her stomach when she woke up on the morning of her birthday. She felt quite cheerful, because she had always enjoyed her birthdays, but mixed in with that cheerfulness, tainting it, was an almost sickening sense of nervousness that was her wondering what correspondence she would receive from her family.

Her nerves were slightly alienated when her dorm mates wished her a happy birthday, and she received presents of a black and green polka-dotted scarf and new Weird Sister's poster from Pansy and Millicent and boxes of Honeydukes chocolate from Daphne and Tracey. Thus, Rachel went to breakfast feeling slightly optimistic about her birthdays at Hogwarts.

"Happy birthday Rachel!" Marcus grinned, making a beeline for his sister as he and Oliver entered the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Thank you." Rachel grinned back. Marcus opened his bag and rummaged through it for a moment, then took from within a square parcel rather shoddily wrapped in green wrapping paper.

"For you." He said, holding out the parcel; Rachel took it with a smile. "I thought they would go with your notebook." Marcus said as she unwrapped it.

Rachel's eyes widened as she finished unwrapping the gift and saw it was a box with a glass panel in the lid, revealing the contents to be two long, light brown feathered quills; with the initials R.B. engraved on the Calamus in gold script. "Wow; thank you." She smiled gratefully, looking up from the gift to Marcus.

"Don't mention it." Marcus smiled back. "Has the post arrived yet?"

"Nope." Rachel shook her head, feeling her nerves increase slightly at the word.

"Well-" Marcus paused, looking up as the now rather familiar great swooshing noise filled the Great Hall and a hundred owls swooped in through the ceiling's windows carrying parcels and letters.

Looking up too, Rachel felt her heart skip a beat as she caught sight of her family owl Rowena swooping towards her, carrying a brown parcel tied to her legs with string. A vaguely familiar looking Screech Owl followed Rowena, also carrying a parcel- Rachel recognised the owl to be Ignatia, who belonged to her Aunt Sophia and Uncle Elijah; Rachel looked around, half-wondering if her Grandmother's snowy owl, Helena, would be behind them; but there was no sign of her. Rachel swallowed nervously, feeling a strange mix of relief and apprehension as both Rowena and landed in front of her. It was only then that she saw that the brown paper parcel from her immediate family was wrapped with great precision and had ben addressed to her in a handwriting she recognised as Ceesy's. The parcel from her Aunt and Uncle was wrapped in dark blue wrapping paper and with similar precision and the address on that looked very much as though it, too, had been written by an elf- presumably Zabrey, her Aunt and Uncle's House-Elf.

A lump rose in Rachel's throat. Suddenly very much aware of the fact that the Great Hall was a very public place and that Zabini was sitting a few seats away from her, Rachel took a deep inward breath, forced the lump back down and hastened to untie the parcels from the legs of the owls, which dipped her beak briefly into her goblet of pumpkin juice before flying off.

"You okay?" Marcus asked, looking at her in concern as she finished untying the parcels and put them into her schoolbag.

"Yeah," Rachel nodded, managing a smile and trying to keep her voice as level as possible. "I'm just going to open these later. I need to finish this before the bell rings."

Marcus looked at her for a moment. "… I can open them with you at lunch if you want." He offered.

Rachel hesitated, thinking. This was the first piece of communication, for lack of a better term- though given the state of her relationship with her parents, parcels were a form of communication- she had had from her parents since they hadn't said goodbye to her at the station; she didn't know what her presents were, nor exactly how she would feel after she opened them… Marcus had stuck up for her on the platform; and as nice as it would be to have her brother there when she opened her first birthday presents from her family at Hogwarts, especially given her Sorting, part of her wanted to do it by herself; however uncertain she was about what the gifts were and how she would react, she wanted to have her own… _control_ in her life; as much as she appreciated and did count on Marcus's support with their parents she wanted to be able to deal with it all on her own, too; and opening the presents alone would be a good place to start. So she shook her head. "I'll be fine," she answered with a small smile, "thanks though."

"It's fine," Marcus said, smiling back. "Offer still stands. I'll see you later."

"Bye- and thank you again for the quills." Rachel said.

"You're welcome." Marcus nodded, turning and crossing to the Ravenclaw Table. Rachel caught sight of Terry and Lisa sitting a few seats down from Marcus when he sat down with Oliver, and looked away quickly, a small, strange feeling dropping into the pit of her stomach. She and the two Ravenclaws had done a very good job of ignoring each other since their argument after her Sorting, especially since the Slytherins and Ravenclaws had Herbology together, but they had been best friends for a couple of years and had all celebrated their eleventh birthdays alongside each other, so it did feel rather strange not to be speaking to them at all on her birthday; but at the same time she didn't want to speak to them, for she knew it wouldn't be pleasant and there was nothing to say- whatever friendship they had had vanished the moment she had been Sorted into Slytherin, and she would rather have friends who accepted her for who she was.

"Rachel?" Rachel looked up. Pansy and Millicent were standing in front of her, bags over their shoulders; looking around, Rachel saw that she had finished the rest of her breakfast without realising and most of the school were on their feet and moving towards the doors to the Entrance Hall; clearly, the bell had gone.

"You coming?" Pansy asked, smiling.

"Oh, yeah," Rachel replied, smiling back; swinging her bag over her shoulder as she got to her feet and left the hall with her friends.

* * *

Though she lay the parcels on her bed during lunch, it was mid afternoon before Rachel had the opportunity to open her parcels from her family. While Pansy and Millicent dropped their bags in the dormitory alongside Daphne and Tracey before the four went down to dinner; Rachel remained in the the dormitory to open her presents. Pansy and Millicent had offered to opened them with her, too, but thanking them, Rachel had stuck with her decision.

Rachel took a deep breath as Tracey closed the dormitory door behind her and turned to face her parcels, which were on the end of her bed as she had left them. Sitting down behind them on her bed, Rachel pushed her glasses up her nose, steeled herself inwardly and picked up the parcel addressed to her in Ceesy's handwriting.

Inside the brown paper she found two presents, wrapped with identical precision with a dark cyan coloured wrapping paper. One was small, squishy rectangular shaped; the other was square, and rather flimsy, too; and looked something like a book. The former was labelled in Ceesy's handwriting ' _From your Mother and Father'_ and the latter was labelled:

 _To Mistress Rachel_

 _Happy birthday_

 _From Ceesy._

Rachel smiled down at the label as she set down the two presents beside the one from her Aunt and Uncle. Her smile wavered slightly as she saw that all the gifts had clearly been wrapped by elves- the ones from her immediate family were wrapped identically and the one from her extended family nearly identically, and her mother had a wrapping style that Rachel would know anywhere. Steeling herself anew as she looked at the three, Rachel decided to leave Ceesy's gift for last, and rip the bandage off by opening her present from her parents first.

A pair of fingerless gloves. A pair of small dark blue fingerless gloves made of a very that bore a sticker proclaiming them to be a part of a sale at Madam Malkin's; and that, as the obvious size indicated and so Rachel found when she tried to try one of them on, were far too small. Pulling the glove off, Rachel stared at them for moments, wondering if perhaps her mother had bought the wrong size by mistake- but no, her mother was far too clever to do anything like that- clearly, these were meant for her.

Setting them to one side, Rachel picked up her present from her Aunt and Uncle; labelled 'From your Aunt Sophia, Uncle Elijah and cousin Mary' in what Rachel very much thought to be Zabrey's handwriting, the present was small and squishy, like her parents', and turned out to be a packet of three scented handkerchiefs, that, or so Rachel found when she opened the packet, smelt so overwhelmingly of lavender that her eyes watered.

Putting the handkerchiefs down beside the gloves, Rachel looked at them both for a moment, feeling slightly downcast but unsure if she should really be feeling so. They were rather strange presents, yes, but they were presents none the less; especially given that she wasn't on the best of terms with her family…

Tears curled in the corners of Rachel's eyes. It was unfair. Completely and utterly unfair. She didn't particularly care about the presents themselves, it was what they represented that made a swarm of upset writhe through her stomach up into her mind. The facts that the gloves were too small and the handkerchiefs smelt so very prominently of lavender and that she received nothing from her Grandmother- or that the gift was late, something her Grandmother never was; and even the fact that she was getting gifts like them, while Marcus got fancy bookmarks and books on his favourite subjects and merchandise from his favourite Quidditch team, told her that in her family's eyes she was less than they were. She knew they thought that already, yes- all her life she had been told that Ravenclaw was the supreme house, that there was nothing better than being sorted into Ravenclaw; that being in Ravenclaw came above anything else for it meant that she was intelligent and a true member of her family- but to be reminded of the fact that they thought she was lesser than them because of the house she had been Sorted into and through the presents and lack of letters she got, especially on her birthday, was particularly harrowing.

A small sob escaped her. Rachel wiped her eyes behind her glasses on her sleeve, cursing her upset inwardly. She looked down at the presents again, and a tiny voice spoke up in the back of her mind. What if, the voice asked, she had been Sorted into Ravenclaw? What would her birthday presents be like? What would her Christmas day and holidays have been like? What would _she_ be like?

Fresh tears pricked at her eyes as she realised she would never know what any of those things would be like; Rachel sniffed, fighting back an entire wave of sobs with a great effort and wiping her eyes anew. She was _not_ going to go to dinner with red eyes, and in any case, she had come a long way in accepting herself and her life in Slytherin, and she wasn't going to let that crumble anytime soon; especially not over something as out-of-her-hands as her birthday presents. Taking another deep breath and wiping her eyes again for good measure, Rachel pushed all the thoughts away and turned to Ceesy's thin, book shaped gift, which lay still wrapped on the bed.

It was not a book, but a catalogue- a section of a catalogue from _Flourish and Blotts_ , filled with pictures and titles of all the books the shop held covering topics about the Ministry of Magic. Fresh tears filled Rachel's eyes as she looked at it- but not tears of upset. Though she was given days off, Ceesy was not payed; and any money she had, she got from Rachel's parents to by things for the family and wool for her knitting; and though it would take Ceesy months to save up enough to buy any of these books, the mere gesture of her taking to time to get a catalogue and find the pages that would interest her, Rachel, the most, was touching. As she looked at the gift, however, a question rose into Rachel's mind; though she served the entire family, Ceesy's main Master and Mistress were her, Rachel's, parents- why then, did Ceesy treat her as she did- why didn't she treat her as her as her parents did- or, if she didn't treat her like less or a person, or at least ignore her- why did she go out of her way to treat her nicely; sending her a catalogue and making her traditional Christmas jumper green? She, Rachel, was not upset that Ceesy treated her nicely, quite the opposite, but she couldn't help but wonder why she did so, however much she was grateful for it.

Wiping her eyes with a smile at the fact that Ceesy did treat her nicely, Rachel looked from Ceesy's catalogue to the presents scarf; poster; Honeydukes sweets; and quills she had got from Pansy; Millicent; Daphne; Tracey; and Marcus respectively; her smile widening at the sight. Disregarding the inclusion of her presents from her mother and father and Aunt and Uncle and the implications that went with them, and even including them, there were still people in her life who cared about her and didn't think less of her because she was in Slytherin; and two of those people were members of her family. It was on this thought that Rachel got up from her bed, put her presents from her mother and father and uncle and aunt back in their wrappings and put them in the bottom of her trunk before leaving the dormitory for the Great Hall and dinner.

"Hey- I've been waiting for you." Marcus approached Rachel moments after she entered the Hall, about a quarter of the way through the main course of dinner. "Your friend Pansy said you were opening your presents in your dormitory."

"Yeah, I was." Rachel nodded, pushing her glasses up her nose.

Marcus eyed her carefully. "Are they… okay?"

"Ceesy's present is- it's nice," Rachel nodded. "This catalogue from Flourish and Blotts- filled with books about the Ministry; it looks amazing."

"That'd great," Marcus smiled back. "…And Mum and Dad?" he asked, his tone cautious.

Rachel's smile faded. "A pair of too small dark blue fingerless gloves from a sale at Madam Malkin's, according to the sticker; wrapped by Ceesy and labelled 'from your Mother and Father' by Ceesy, too." She answered. "And a three pack of handkerchiefs that stink of lavender from Aunt Sophia and Uncle Elijah- wrapped and labelled by Zabrey."

Marcus stared at her for so long that Rachel half started to wonder if someone had stunned him without anyone noticing. "…You're joking." he said at last; Rachel shook her head. "Two small gloves from our parents- in _dark blue_ , when you're in _Slytherin_ ; literally stinking handkerchiefs from Aunt Sophia and Uncle Elijah and nothing from Grandmother."

Rachel nodded, fighting to keep her emotions locked up. "It's not all bad, though." She said, as Marcus raked a hand through his hair, his eyes clouding over angrily. "Ceesy's catalogue and your quills and everything I got from my friends are nice."

"Yeah- but that's- that's not the point." Marcus folded his arms, agitated. "Mum and Dad and Aunt Sophia and Uncle Elijah and Grandmother; they're- they're meant to be adults, and giving you cloak buckles and- and tissues for your birthday because they can't accept you not being in Ravenclaw is ridiculous- pathetic! I just- ugh- I don't get how they can do it!" he ran his hand through his hair again, scowling heavily.

"Neither do I," Rachel shrugged; Marcus's temper stirred further as he saw his sister's shoulders, not to mention her whole demeanour, sag miserably as they lowered and she went on. "But you know, they're very House proud."

"That shouldn't be an excuse," Marcus frowned. "… Dad I kind of understand because Grandmother's, you know, really House proud; but Mum-," he broke off, shifting uncomfortably, "-well, she's never really said much about her family, has she?"

"No," Rachel shook her head. All she knew about their Mother's parents was that they had passed away from Dragon Pox a few months after Marcus was born; their Grandmother, Mabel, had reacted badly to the first round of the cure and passed away, leading to their Grandfather, Thomas, had refusing the cure; and that mentioning them made Susanne very upset. "No, she hasn't- but you know she gets upset."

"…Yeah," Marcus nodded slowly after a moment. "Yeah you're right." He agreed, running his hand through his hair. "Look, don't pay them any more mind, okay? Go enjoy your birthday dinner- eat so much you can't walk." He grinned.

Rachel managed a smile back. "Thanks," she replied, turning and continuing on her way to the Slytherin table.

Marcus watched as she sat down beside the two girls she was closest with, Pansy and Millicent, said something, smiling ruefully, as one of them, Millicent, asked her something quietly; before returning to his seat beside Oliver at the Ravenclaw table.

"Everything alright?" Oliver asked, looking at him in concern as he sat down.

Marcus shook his head, picking up his fork and stabbing at a carrot. "Nope."

"I'm sorry Rachel," Pansy said apologetically so only the three girls could hear her as Rachel finished telling them about her presents from her family, in kind.

"It's fine," Rachel replied, keeping her smile as steady as she could. "All my other presents are amazing."

"Well, look who it is," Nott's teasing call attracted the girl's attention and looking around, they saw him smirking at someone over their shoulders. Turning, the girls saw Zabini walking towards the Slytherin table. He was expressionless as always, but there was a very annoyed glint in his eyes and turn to his shoulders.

Zabini sat down beside Nott as usual, but ignored him, pulling what remained of the latest chicken towards him. Nott raised his eyebrows. Dropping his voice, Nott said something to Zabini so quietly only the other boy could hear him. Zabini shrugged in response; but this seemed to make sense to Nott, for he patted his friend on the shoulder and went back to his own meal. Rachel, Pansy and Millicent exchanged puzzled glances, but knowing they weren't at all likely to get anything out of Zabini aside from rudeness if they asked, and assuming Nott wouldn't saw anything if Zabini didn't want him too they said nothing on the matter; instead choosing to join in on Daphne and Tracey's debate on the likelihood of whether or not _Witch Weekly_ staff members actually ever made the recipes they printed before printing them; and by the end of dinner, Rachel had entirely forgotten about Nott's interaction with Zabini; and almost entirely about her birthday presents from her parents, and Aunt and Uncle; and lack of present from her Grandmother as well.

* * *

It was a quarter-past eleven by the time Marcus set down his quill and pushed his thumb into the centre of his palm, massaging out the cramp several hours of writing and brooding with a quill clenched tight in his fingers had brought to his hand. Leaning back in his chair, he looked around the otherwise empty Ravenclaw common room, deciding to take a break from staring at a piece of parchment in favour of looking around the airy wide and circular room. Marcus couldn't smile as he took in the graceful arched windows set into the blue-and-bronze silk covered walls; windows that in daylight showed a beautiful view of the entirety of the school grounds from the lake to the Quidditch Pitch, Forbidden Forest, Herbology gardens and the mountains surrounding the school. The thought made his smile widen as he looked at the bookshelves; other chairs and tables; the white marble statute of Rowena Ravenclaw; the door to the boy's dormitories beside it and the door to the girls' just out of sight behind it; and the domed, star speckled ceiling and similarly adorned midnight-blue carpet. Ravenclaw Tower truly was his home away from home.

"Sure you're a Ravenclaw? Because Charms was hard, yeah, but you've been at that for hours."

Marcus looked up, grinning briefly back at Oliver as he saw him walking towards him from the now ajar door to the boys' dormitories and across the common room towards him, pyjama and dressing gown clad and slightly blearily-eyed. "I finished charms earlier," he answered, gesturing to his finished essay and closed Charms textbook on the table in front of him. "This was worse."

"What is it?" Oliver asked, sitting down in the seat beside him.

Marcus ran a hand through his hair. "I'm writing to my Mum- just my Mum," he said, "appealing to her about Rachel again."

Oliver's eyebrows rose. "Sounds terrifying. Does Rachel know you're writing?"

"It is," Marcus nodded, "and no, she doesn't; which kind of adds to the fear-factor in a sense, but I want to do this without her knowing for now in case Mum flies into a rage. The last thing Rachel needs is any more rejection- and I doubt Mum will send a Howler because she doesn't want the whole school knowing our family business."

"Fair enough." Oliver said reasonably, nodding, too. "How d'you think you went? With the letter, I mean. I know you said your parents weren't too happy with you on the platform because you stood up for Rachel. D'you think your Mum will listen even if she's not happy with you?"

"Er... I'm not sure honestly," Marcus answered, scratching the bridge of his nose. "I kind of asked her to really think about, well, everything; in the hopes that she'll think twice about the way she's been treating Rachel..." he trailed off, his hand trailing through his hair again. "... can you read it, please?" he asked after a moment, looking up at Oliver slightly apprehensively. "Tell me if you think it's okay?"

"Sure," Oliver smiled comfortingly, looking down at the parchment as Marcus turned it towards him, and starting to read:

 _Dear Mum,_

 _First off, I hope you and everyone else is well. I'm writing to appeal to you about Rachel, again. I know you and Dad think that she has manipulated me into standing by her, but please believe me when I say that that is not true in the slightest- she doesn't even know I'm writing to you._

 _I understand that you, Dad, Grandmother Elspeth, and Aunt Sophia and Uncle Elijah are very Ravenclaw proud- I am, too- but just because Rachel is not in Ravenclaw doesn't mean you can treat her the way you have. It isn't fair of you to do the barest minimum for her on special occasions and ignore her the rest of the time the way you have been. Surely you realised that she was really upset over Christmas; and even though she tried to hide it, I could tell she was upset today when she got the bare minimum from you and Aunt Sophia and Uncle Elijah and absolutely nothing from Grandmother._

 _The Sorting Hat would have put her in Ravenclaw if it thought that that was the best house for her; and it put her in Slytherin because it thinks it is the best house for her, and if I'm perfectly honest, I agree. Even you have to admit that Rachel has always been very ambitious, determined and resourceful- traits that aren't at all negative and are said to be have been admired by Salazar Slytherin, just like knowledge, wit and acceptance are said to be have been admired by Rowena Ravenclaw; and surely you agree that Rachel shouldn't be looked down upon just because her mind lines up more with the thinking of one of the Hogwarts' Founders than another?_

 _I understand that Dad may find it more difficult to accept Rachel given the full extent of Grandmother Elspeth's Ravenclaw pride, but I know that if you really wanted to you can convince him, and Aunt Sophia and Uncle Elijah to at least try to change their minds._

 _Please, just think about what I've said._

 _All the best,_

 _Love Marcus._

"Yeah," Oliver nodded, finishing reading and pushing the letter back towards Marcus, "yeah it's good."

"Really?" Marcus asked, looking at him slightly anxiously. "It's not too…" he trailed off, looking for the right word, "…passive-aggressive?"

Oliver shook his head. "No, it's perfect- dances right along the line between passive-aggressive and blunt." He answered. "Look, I was as dumbfounded as you were when Rachel was Sorted and at first I wondered the same things my brother and your parents currently think, but I trusted your judgement enough to agree with and stick by you when you said you wanted to stick by Rachel regardless of her Sorting- and from what I've seen by doing that; I really think that Rachel is the same person she's always been and, take away all the family disapproval, she's as happy, if not happier, in Slytherin than she would be in Ravenclaw; and if anything that isn't her or something she does is going to convince them to see that, it's going to be you."

Marcus smiled, testing letter's ink to see if it had dried and folding up the parchment up when he saw that it had. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Oliver smiled back, getting to his feet as Marcus put his letter carefully into his charms textbook for safe keeping until the morning; put the book, his quill, ink and quill in his bag, got to his feet, too; following Oliver across the common room, through the door to the boys' dormitories and up climb the winding staircase to reach theirs, where wonderings about how his mother would take the letter and eventual sleep awaited him.

* * *

"Merlin I hope this works." Marcus muttered fervently early the next morning, leaning against the wall of the Owlery and addressing his letter to his mother. "For my sake as well as Rachel's- it's not a nice feeling knowing I've disappointed my parents; however much I think what I'm saying and doing is right."

"Well, for the sake of forming a new plan; let's say it doesn't," Oliver said, stroking the beak of a nearby school owl as Marcus finished writing his mother's name and address on the letter, handed it to the barn owl and carried it from its perch over to the nearest window. "Say your parents aren't convinced by your letter, for whatever reason. What are you going to do- for yourself, if not Rachel?"

Marcus took a moment to think before replying, his mind whirling to grapple with his thoughts and think of a new plan as the owl flew from his hand and up into the morning sky. What if his mother didn't listen and was even more displeased with him; and with Rachel, too? What would he do to fix it, any of it, if he even could? The owl was a distant speck in the sky before he answered, but he found no satisfaction in his response.

"…I dunno."

 **A/N: Please review! :)**


	17. Chapter 17: Revision and a Revelation

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else that may be referenced in this chapter.**

 **A/N: Big thank yous to you all. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)**

 **Twitter: Prof_McGonagal**

 **Chapter 17: Revision and a Revelation**

 _"Merlin I hope this works." Marcus muttered fervently early the next morning, leaning against the wall of the Owlery and addressing his letter to his mother. "For my sake as well as Rachel's- it's not a nice feeling knowing I've disappointed my parents; however much I think what I'm saying and doing is right."_

 _"Well, for the sake of forming a new plan; let's say it doesn't," Oliver said, stroking the beak of a nearby school owl as Marcus finished writing his mother's name and address on the letter, handed it to the barn owl and carried it from its perch over to the nearest window. "Say your parents aren't convinced by your letter, for whatever reason. What are you going to do- for yourself, if not Rachel?"_

 _Marcus took a moment to think before replying, his mind whirling to grapple with his thoughts and think of a new plan as the owl flew from his hand and up into the morning sky. What if his mother didn't listen and was even more displeased with him; and with Rachel, too? What would he do to fix it, any of it, if he even could? The owl was a distant speck in the sky before he answered, but he found no satisfaction in his response._

 _"…I dunno."_

Marcus did not hear back from his mother the next day; nor the day after a that; indeed, even the day after that, his mother's reply remained copiously absent. Marcus couldn't help but feel slightly anxious, worried that he had upset his mother a lot, but he tried his best not to show it, especially in front of Rachel and Oliver; not wanting either of them to worry about him. Unfortunately, however, Oliver picked up on his uncomfortableness and asked him on multiple occasions if everything was okay.

"I'm fine," he snapped angrily on the fifth occasion.

Oliver flinched. "Alright… Merlin," he muttered, going back to his charms homework.

"It's just the letter-thing, you know."

"I know- I was just trying to get you to admit it in the hopes you'll look a bit less constipated," Oliver said with a faint grin. "It'll all be alright, you'll see."

"Hopefully," Marcus murmured fervently, searching though his textbook for a quote. "…Wait, I do _not_ look constipated."

"Yeah you do," Oliver smirked, laughing and ducking as Marcus threw a bit of old parchment at him.

The matter was dropped between the two of them after that; and, fortunately for Marcus it was never brought up with Rachel, for he was able to hide his anxiousness from her quite easily, as they only really saw each other at mealtimes and occasionally in the corridors between classes; and, as time went by and response arrived, Marcus felt all the more thankful that Rachel remained oblivious.

Rachel may have been oblivious to her brother's plight, but she was likely oblivious to most of the goings on around the castle. She had vented her frustrations and upset about her birthday into her leather-bound notebook, and now her attention was almost entirely taken up with her studies. So nervous was she about her exams that she was working harder than ever in classes, and her marks were, as far as she could discern, skyrocketing as a result- with the exception of Potions. For some reason, Rachel simply could not get a hold of the practical element of the subject, and without that understanding, her written work suffered greatly. Matters were not improved by Zabini's continued excellence in the subject, and it's accompanying smirks and taunts; but Rachel did her best to get her own back whenever she could, and resolved to work harder than ever.

On Saturday morning, however, Pansy and Millicent frog-marched her down to the Great Hall, informing her that she was working unnecessarily hard and was going to attend the Quidditch match that was taking place that day, no matter what.

"I'm not working too hard," Rachel protested as the girls sat down at the Slytherin table.

"Yes you are- exams aren't until June Rachel, and its only February." Millicent said, pouring a glass of pumpkin juice. "You've still got ages to get your head around Potions and Quidditch will take your mind off it- help you relax."

Rachel frowned slightly, "I dunno if I need to-"

"You're going, Rachel," Pansy interrupted firmly, buttering a slice of toast. "Trust us, it'll do you good- whether you need to relax or not."

"…Okay," Rachel agreed after a moment, deciding that they had a point. As she reached for a plate of bacon, Nott and Zabini entered the hall, the former smirking; the latter his usual expressionless self.

"Morning- why the smirk?" Pansy asked Nott as he sat down opposite her; Zabini beside him as usual.

"Morning- we-" Nott gestured between himself and Zabini, "-have a bet on this match. If Hufflepuff win, I have to give up my chess set for a week; but if Gryffindor win, Blaise has to give up-" Nott paused, seeming to wince slightly, "-er- a notebook of his."

"…Right…" Pansy nodded slowly, her gaze flickering curiously towards Zabini- who was pouring himself some pumpkin juice- before returning to Nott. "You're betting on _Gryffindor_?"

Nott pulled a face. "I'm not thrilled about it," he said, taking a slice of toast, "but it's undeniable that they have a strong side."

"Guess what I've just heard!" Draco arrived seemingly out of nowhere, Vincent and Gregory at his side, attracting the attention of the first years. "Madam Hooch has gone to visit a relative this weekend, so Snape is refereeing!"

"What?!" Nott exclaimed.

"Yeah I know- brilliant isn't it?!" Draco grinned, setting off down the table with Vincent and Gregory, presumably to spread the word further via Daphne and Tracey, who were sitting further along the table.

Nott stared after him in horror; but of the corner of her eye, Rachel noticed Zabini start to smirk into his goblet of pumpkin juice.

Professor Snape was indeed refereeing, or so Rachel, Pansy and Millicent discovered when they found seats in the stands and looked down at the pitch to see him standing alongside the ball crate, a broomstick beside it and the silver glint of a whistle visible near the neck of his black robles.

"Do you think he volunteered for this?" Rachel asked, leaning to one side to get a better look past Ron Weasley- who was sitting two rows down with Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom- at Snape's expression. "He doesn't look very happy- at all."

"…No," Millicent agreed slowly, doing the same. "No he doesn't, does he?

"Dumbledore probably made him," Pansy sniggered, "look, he's just arrived." She gestured across the stands, where Dumbledore was indeed taking a seat with the rest of the staff.

"Oi, budge up."

Rachel groaned softly under her breath as Nott and Zabini arrived and sat down on Pansy's other side. As much as she didn't begrudge Pansy's friendship with Nott, it _was_ annoying to be around Zabini any more than she was forced to be by classes.

The stands filled up quickly as the start of the match grew nearer; indeed, by the time the players shot up into the sky above pitch amidst cheers, applause and whistles, there were only a few places left empty, including a small stretch in front of Rachel and the other Slytherins; but that was soon taken up by Draco, Gregory and Vincent; the first of whom commemorated their arrival by poking Ron Weasley in the back of the head.

"Ow!" Weasley exclaimed, and he and Granger turned around.

"Oh, awfully sorry, Weasley; I didn't see you sitting there," Draco said, grinning broadly at Vincent and Gregory as up in the air, one of the Weasley twins hit a Bludger at Snape. "I wonder how long Potter's going to last in the air this time? Anybody want to bet? How about you, Weasley; any thoughts?"

Weasley didn't answer; distracted by the fact that Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty for the Weasley twin's hitting a Bludger at him. Granger, too, paid no mind to Draco- she was squinting up at Potter, who was encircling the pitch, searching for the Golden Snitch. As Draco's grin faded, Rachel returned her attention to the match, too.

Johnson of Gryffindor had the Quaffle, which she passed to her teammate Spinnet; who raced off down the pitch, dodging Bludgers and Hufflepuff chasers alike as she sped towards the Hufflepuff goalposts. But no sooner had she drawn her arm back to attempt to score against the Hufflepuff Keeper, then Snape's whistle pierced the air again, awarding a penalty to Hufflepuff for no apparent reason.

"Do you know how I reckon they must choose people to play on the Gryffindor team?" Draco asked loudly as the blast of Snape's whistle echoed around the stadium. "It's got to be people the House feel sorry for. You see, first you've got Potter; and he's got no parents; then there're the Weasleys, who haven't got any money- you'd be a shoe in for the team, Longbottom; seeing as you haven't got any brains."

Longbottom turned around in his seat to look Draco in the eye, through his face was bright red with embarrassment.

"I-I-I'm w-worth t-twelve of you, M-Malfoy," he stammered.

Draco, Vincent, and Gregory roared with laughter, but Weasley; his eyes still watching the match above, said, "Yeah, you tell him, Neville."

Draco snorted, "If brains were gold Longbottom, you would be poorer than Weasley is; and Merlin knows that is saying something."

Weasley's ears turned red. "I'm warning you, Malfoy- if you say one more word-"

"Ron!" Granger interrupted suddenly, "Harry-"

"What?!" Weasley interrupted sharply, "Where?"

Rachel, Pansy and Millicent gasped as one as up in the air, Potter suddenly went into a spectacular dive. The Gryffindor supporters, with the exception of Nott, who merely smirked at Zabini, and Granger, who stood up, her hands around her mouth, cheered and clapped as Potter streaked towards the ground like a rocket.

Draco shouted "You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's clearly seen some money down in the grass!"

In the next moment, Rachel's vision was momentarily obscured by Weasley's head as he leapt over the back of his seat and leapt on Draco; wrestling him to the ground. Then she was forced to duck as Longbottom joined the fight and Vincent's arm narrowly avoided missing her face.

"Watch it!" Nott cried, leaning back in his seat, too. But his protest was lost in Granger's shriek of support for Potter as she leapt up into her seat, watching with wide eyes as Potter shot straight towards Snape. Snape turned around on his broomstick in mid air, just in time to see Potter shoot past him in a blur of scarlet- the next second, Potter had steadied himself; his arm raised in triumph, the Golden Snitch held tightly in his hand.

Nott was jubilant for the rest of the day; Zabini, for his part, was somehow even move expressionless than usual. Draco, too, was rather down in the dumps, but that, of course, was down to Potter's success.

"Bloody Potter," Draco muttered darkly under his breath that evening in the common room. "He shouldn't even be allowed his own broomstick- no one else in first is."

"Yeah, but it's not surprising is it- he's 'the famous Harry Potter,'" Pansy drew air quotes around the words, pulling a face.

"You know what was surprising though," Sebastian Parkinson spoke up mildly from a nearby armchair. "Snape's reaction."

Millicent frowned, looking up from her Charms essay. "What do you mean?"

"He spat on the ground; all bitter," Sebastian mimed spitting bitterly on the ground. "Why I'm not entirely sure. Probably because Gryffindor won."

"Yeah," Nott agreed, turning to grin pointedly at Zabini. "Gryffindor won."

Zabini scowled into his textbook, but said nothing.

* * *

After the match, life at Hogwarts returned to normal. Rachel returned to preparing for her exams; she found that studying in the afternoons helped her relax more than studying in the evenings, and thus took to studying for a few hours every day after classes, stopping only once she was satisfied that she was across all of her classes. She took a brief break from her work on Daphne's birthday, which was a week after her own, to celebrate with the others; but the next day she was back at her studies, working steadily over the next few weeks through her various Charms, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, Astronomy and Herbology essays, and then far far less steadily through her Potions essays.

"Er- Rachel?... Rachel?"

"Huh?" Rachel opened her eyes. Her vision was oddly blurred and in her confusion it took Rachel a moment to realise her face rested on the Slytherin table and her glasses were askew. The last thing she remembered was struggling to finish her most recent potions essay at breakfast, now her right cheek was pressed into her parchment and her glasses were pressing painfully into her right temple.

Millicent smiled at her slightly sheepishly as Rachel sat up and straightened her glasses. "You fell asleep," she said, taking a sip of pumpkin juice as Rachel frowned slightly, feeling something sticking to her cheek, "and you have ink on your cheek."

"Oh," Rachel smiled sheepishly back, reaching for her napkin and starting to scrub at her cheek. "Thanks."

A nasty snicker announced Zabini's, and in turn, Nott's arrival at the breakfast table; the former smirking maliciously at Rachel.

"What?" Rachel demanded defensively, flushing slightly in embarrassment despite herself and glaring all the more fiercely at Zabini as a result as he sat down to the right of Nott, who sat down opposite Pansy, who sat to Rachel's left.

"Please don't start," Nott groaned as Zabini opened his mouth to speak, still smirking, "that was the worst night's sleep I've ever had."

He did indeed look rather dishevelled.

"Why?" Pansy asked curiously, passing him the toast rack.

"Thanks- something kept slamming against the window," Nott explained, covering his toast with scrambled eggs. "It was too dark to see what, but it's silhouette was massive."

"That'll be the Giant Squid," Alex Murton, the 5th year prefect spoke from a few seats down, "it lives in the Black Lake- sometimes it bumps against the dormitory and common room windows trying to find food. I think it's a bit blind."

"So it's a long-lost relative of Belby."

"I said don't start," Nott said exasperatedly, turning to stare quelling at Zabini as Pansy grabbed Rachel's arm and wrestled the fried egg Rachel held in her hand back onto her plate; stopping her from throwing it at full force across the table and into Zabini's face. "Er- the giant squid, it doesn't eat people does it?"

"Not as far as I know," Alex shook his head, "and there's no way that glass will break so I wouldn't worry about it."

Millicent frowned. "How will banging on the glass attract food though? I would've thought that the fish would try and get away from the noise."

Alex shrugged. "It's probably hoping the noise will push the other fish in the opposite direction and it'll be able to find them to eat."

Rachel raised her eyebrows, finding her quill as Alex spoke and managing to finish off the last sentence of her essay. "Wow, that's resourceful."

"I wouldn't get too excited, Belby; it hasn't been passed do-"

"What did I say about starting?" Nott interrupted, raising his eyebrows pointedly at Zabini. Zabini ignored him. Undeterred, Nott leant towards his friend unblinkingly, continuing to so until his nose was mere inches from Zabini's cheek. There he paused, staring pointedly at Zabini with his eyebrows raised.

"…Don't." Zabini muttered after a moment in defeat, scowling and shoving Nott's face away.

"Exactly." Nott grinned, turning back to his breakfast.

"Yeah," Rachel smirked across the table at Zabini. _"Don't."_

"...You're still not resourceful."

"I hate him," Rachel fumed to Pansy and Millicent as the three girls made their way to History of Magic five minutes later; Pansy and Millicent having stopped Rachel from getting her own back at Zabini by emptying an entire plate of scrambled eggs over his head by dragging her from the Hall. "I hate, hate, hate him. Why can't he just leave me alone?"

"Well…" Millicent tilted her head to one side. "…I don't know; but to be fair, you don't exactly shy away from the chance to mock him- like the other day when he accidently threw his Herbology essay in the fire in the common room instead of scrap parchment."

Rachel giggled at the memory as the bell rang for the end of breakfast. "My impression was funny though."

"Yeah," Pansy acknowledged, grinning. "But _he_ didn't think so- especially when you did a re-enactment of him stamping out the flames when Sprout's back was turned after he handed the essay; which he had to rewrite."

Rachel shrugged slightly sheepishly as they reached the third floor. "It's not my fault he's got no sense of hu-"

She broke off abruptly, starting in surprise alongside Pansy and Millicent. Potter, Weasley and Granger were walking towards them from their right- clearly, they had just been in that end of the corridor. The three stopped short upon catching sight of the Slytherins, but after a moment Potter kept walking as though he, Granger and Weasley were doing no wrong in being in the forbidden corridor. Granger and Weasley hurried after him, quickly mimicking his demeanour.

The girls stared after the Gryffindors as they strode down the staircase to the second floor.

Pansy blinked as they vanished from view. "…That was weird," she said as the girls continued on their way to History of Magic, "I wonder what they were doing down the forbidden corridor?"

Millicent shrugged. "Probably trying to see what's forbidden about it- though personally I'd have to try and find out a bit more about what it could be before I decided to investigate further."

Rachel shook her head. "Rather you than me- it's forbidden for a reason."

"You're not even the least bit curious?" Millicent raised her eyebrows sceptically. "Come on Rachel, where's your sense of adventure?"

"Deterred by the 'it's out of bounds to all those who do not wish to die' bit of Dumbledore's welcoming speech." Rachel replied as the girls reached the classroom.

Daphne and Tracey were already there, giggling over Rita Skeeter's article on the new hats being sold in Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, that had been published in this week's _Witch Weekly_. Rachel, Pansy and Millicent took their usuals seats and got out their quills and parchment to at least make some effort of concentration. Soon after Draco, Vincent and Gregory arrived, followed and a few moments later, by Nott and Zabini. Though Pansy smiled at Nott as they took their usual seats in the row in behind her, Rachel and Millicent, Rachel kept her head down, writing the date atop her parchment with an undeserved level of concentration. Annoyingly, out of the corner of her eye she saw Zabini looking at her, smirking smugly; clearly still gloating over having got the last word at breakfast. Much to her relief, the bell rang for the start of morning lessons a moment later, and Professor Binns floated through the blackboard, bringing with him the boring, monotone, but welcome change of focus of History of Magic.

Rachel continued to work hard in her classes as time marched into March, and by a week before Marcus's birthday on the twelfth of March she felt confident enough to take some time off to order her brother a present via owl order and relax before she had less than ten weeks before exams. She didn't have much of the twenty galleons her father had given her on September first left after Christmas, but she had enough to buy him a small gift without spending all of her money, something she didn't want to do given that she had a feeling that her writing to her parents and asking for more money should she run out would not be well received, regardless of what her father had said on the morning of the first of September.

* * *

Marcus awoke early on the morning of his thirteenth birthday. He still had fifteen minutes before his alarm went off and he could tell he wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep, so he lay still on his side, watching the sun slowly sink up into the sky through the dormitory window, thinking. He liked thinking- he found it help him work through things, the same way he rather thought writing in the leather bound notebook he had bought her for her eleventh birthday helped Rachel; having observed her writing in it rather a lot during the Christmas holidays.

Marcus's stomach twisted slightly at the thought of his sister- the thought of her reminded him of the letter he had sent to his mother, appealing to her to changer her mind about Rachel and encourage the rest of their family to do the same. The letter that had received no response.

Pushing the thought away, Marcus refocussed his mind and returned to his initial line of thought.

It was his thirteenth birthday. He was a teenager now, that would mean his parents would likely start thinking of him as more responsible- if differences didn't blind them, that is. They would also likely require consistency with his school marks- which were very high already, but he doubted they would allow less and less for any slipping the older he got… may also raise the money he was given at the start of every school year; and let him go off by himself in Diagon Alley if he wanted too… yes, that, that would be fun.

 _BUZZ-BUZZ-BUZZ!_

 _BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!_

"Uggghhhh," Oliver groaned from the bed beside his, lifting his head from his pillow as the alarms of both Marcus and Edward Davis, another boy in their dormitory, blasted into life, "I hate those bloody noises; it's always like I just fall asleep- hey-" Oliver broke off abruptly, his eyes lighting up as, clearly, something occurred to him "- happy birthday!" he grinned at Marcus.

"Thanks," Marcus grinned as this sentiment was echoed around the dormitory, watching Oliver as his friend scrambled out of bed and started to dig through his trunk.

"Ha!" he exclaimed triumphantly after a moment, straightening up with a large square object clumsily wrapped in grey paper in his hands. "Enjoy it," he said with a smile, throwing the parcel to Marcus.

Marcus caught the parcel smiling back, his smile widening as he felt the familiar weight of a book. "Thanks; I will."

"Happy birthday!" Rachel's words drew Marcus from his breakfast and he looked up, smiling back at his sister as she handed him a small, square and heavy present wrapped in silver wrapping paper, ignoring the glares directed at her from Terry and Lisa, who were sitting nearby with some other first year Ravenclaws.

"Thank you," Marcus said, pushing his breakfast to one side and setting the present down on the table in front of him. Unwrapping it, he started at it for moment in surprise. Beneath the paper was a small cardboard box and inside a small rat shaped paperweight, the tail of which, according to the outside of the box, curled around the corner of the parchment it was placed atop, keeping it and multiple other pieces of parchment in place.

"I-I know it's not much- sorry," Rachel said, sounding slightly nervous, "and I would have got you blue paper except the stuff on Owl Order was t- wasn't very nice."

"Don't worry about it," Marcus grinned easily. "This is really cool, reminds me of Newt- thanks Rachel."

Rachel grinned back, looking pleased, "You're welcome."

At that moment, the post arrived, and Rowena, Ignatia, and a third, rather familiar-looking cream-coloured barn owl- Laverne, their Grandmother's owl; named after Laverne de Montmorency, a famous Potioneer who had been Sorted into Ravenclaw, landed in front of Marcus, one after the other; each of them laden with a large parcel wrapped in blue and bronze wrapping paper.

Marcus's smile faltered a moment after it rose to his lips. Happy as he was to receive birthday presents from his family outside Hogwarts, he hated that they were delivered in front of Rachel, who had received so little from the same only a few weeks earlier.

But when he turned to look at Rachel, she was grinning as she had before, though her eyes were slightly wider behind her glasses.

"Good haul," she said, nodding towards the presents, on which still stood the owls had had brought them. "I've got to eat before lessons, though, so I'll see you later. Happy birthday; again."

"Thanks," Marcus smiled back, watching to make sure his sister was with her friends before turning back to the Ravenclaw table.

"That is a good haul," Oliver remarked, watching as Marcus unwrapped a copy of _'Lev Zograf's Plays to Prominence- a Memoir,'_ from his Aunt Sophia and Uncle Elijah; a simply enormous poster of a Welsh Green dragon flying around a mountain from his grandmother; a section of a Flourish and Blotts catalogue, filled with books about magical creatures from Ceesy; and one of those books, From _'Egg to Inferno: a Dragon-Keeper's Guide'_ from his parents.

"It's amazing," Marcus said, putting his presents carefully inside his school bag and opening the cards of birthday messages from his aunt and Uncle, Grandmother and Ceesy. "I just wish it hadn't arrived in front of-" he broke off abruptly, reaching the card from his parents- which was identical to Ceesy's- and finding a letter addressed to him in his mother's handwriting stuck to the inside.

"What's that?" Oliver asked curiously as Marcus gingerly peeled the letter from the card, breaking the sticking charm and slipping the card, along with the others, into his school bag.

Marcus lowered his voice. "It's from my Mum," he said, showing Oliver the letter.

Oliver's eyes widened. "She replied?"

Marcus nodded. "It might just be a happy birthday letter, but I think so."

"Are you going to open it?"

Marcus hesitated a moment, then shook his head. "Not today; not on my birthday- I'll do it tomorrow."

Oliver frowned slightly, "It might have good news."

"Yeah," Marcus acknowledged, "but I don't want to take the risk."

Oliver nodded "Fair enough," he replied and the boys left it at that and returned to their breakfasts; Marcus slipping his mother's letter into his pocket as he did so; and though it was in truth practically weightless, Marcus couldn't help but feel every time it shifted as he moved throughout the day, despite his best efforts to ignore it and have a good time.

* * *

But despite his intention to open the letter from his mother the day after his birthday, it took Marcus three days to so much as take the letter from the pocket of his robes. He was, as he confessed to Oliver when his friend asked if he's read the letter yet, afraid that it would be more bad news and rejection for Rachel.

"But you don't know that," Oliver said, as the boys stood in the corner of the Transfiguration courtyard during break, "have a bit of faith in your mother mate- and in any case, leaving the letter unread isn't going to change what it says."

"…Yeah," Marcus after a moment agreed, nodding and steeling his resolve. Taking a deep breath, he took the letter from his pocket, unfolded it, and started to read:

 _Dear Marcus,_

 _Firstly, happy birthday! I hope you are well and like your presents._

 _I apologise for taking so long to write back to you, but I will be honest and tell you that your letter brought up a sensitive matter that is going to rather difficult for me to address. In fact, the main reason I am replying to your letter instead of waiting to tell you these things in person is because it is so sensitive that it will be easier, I think, to write it down than say it out loud. I ask that you do not bring up what I tell you ever again._

 _You did not know them, as they died before you were born, but my parents, your grandparents, were very house proud. My mother the only Ravenclaw in her family- the siblings and parents were Gryffindors and Hufflepuff's- and she took the honour very seriously indeed. My father's family, the Wildsmiths, were one of the few Pureblood wizarding families, like the Belbys, to have a constant stream, for lack of a better term, of family members Sorted into Ravenclaw._

 _But problems arose when, a few months after I graduated Hogwarts, there was a fight over money between my parents and aunts and uncles on my father's side; which resulted in my aunt and uncle's leaving England with my cousins- who were all still at Hogwarts- and settling down overseas, leaving me and your aunt Sophia to carry on the family tradition of Ravenclaw Sortings through our marriages. Your sister's Sorting is, quite frankly, is an unnerving disappointment._

 _I was raised with the philosophy that to be a true Wildsmith is to be a Ravenclaw, that Ravenclaw is the superior House, and even though I am a Belby, I am not going to compromise my family values because your little sister has manipulated you into believing that she hasn't been consciously concealing elements of her personality from her family for Merlin knows how long; perhaps hoping to use the family name with the support of her father to gain a promise of a high ranking position in the Ministry before she has graduated Hogwarts. She is, as you yourself said, very ambitious._

 _I said earlier that your sister's Sorting is an unnerving disappointment. I hardly need to explain the disappointment element to you as I'm sure you are intelligent enough to understand why it is so; but as you appealed to me I am appealing to you, to see reason, realise, however much it unnerves you, that your sister, whether she knows you are writing to me or not, is manipulating you and stay away from her._

 _Happy birthday again; I hope you have a wonderful day._

 _All my love,_

 _Mum xxx_

Marcus finished reading and sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. His mother's letter had crushed any hope he had of his letter improving things between his parents and Rachel; it had answered his question regarding the reason behind his mother's personal prejudice against other houses, and her turning against Rachel after her Sorting; and it was just as deeply embedded and unchangeable as his father's. There wasn't even any hope of appealing to Aunt Sophia, as she evidently shared the same views as his mother- and Uncle Elijah was as house proud as his wife; having been a prefect and Captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team during his Hogwarts years.

"…Bad news?" Oliver guessed tentatively after a moment.

Wordlessly, Marcus handed the letter over. Oliver's eyebrows rose higher and higher up his forehead as he read, and once he reached the end, he looked up grimacing.

"Nice," he said handing the letter back.

"It isn't?" Marcus replied dryly, refolding the letter and stuffing it back into his pocket.

"… What're you going to now?" Oliver asked after a moment.

Marcus paused, considering the question. "…Nothing," he answered at last. "There's nothing I can do about this now; with either of my parents."

"No," Oliver agreed, tilting his head to one side. "No I suppose not. Are you going to tell Rachel about any of this?"

"No," Marcus shook his head decisively. "I'm just going to keep being there fore her; no matter what she needs. That letter- it's pretty harsh and she doesn't need any more rejection."

"No she doesn't," Oliver agreed, shaking his head too, "You're a good guy mate." He said, patting Marcus's shoulder.

"Thanks," Marcus replied with a smile as the bell rang for the recommencement of lessons. But as Oliver's hand fell away from his shoulder and the two boys made their way back into the castle, Marcus's smile faltered; and he rather thought that however much of a good guy he endeavored to be, things were not going to be easy.

 **A/N: Please review! :)**


	18. Chapter 18: Studying

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else that may be referenced in this chapter.**

 **A/N: Massive thank yous to you all. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)**

 **Twitter: Prof_McGonagal**

 **Chapter 18: Studying**

"… _What're you going to now?" Oliver asked after a moment._

 _Marcus paused, considering the question. "…Nothing," he answered at last. "There's nothing I can do about this now; with either of my parents."_

" _No," Oliver agreed, tilting his head to one side. "No I suppose not. Are you going to tell Rachel about any of this?"_

" _No," Marcus shook his head decisively. "I'm just going to keep being there fore her; no matter what she needs. That letter- it's pretty harsh and she doesn't need any more rejection."_

" _No she doesn't," Oliver agreed, shaking his head too, "You're a good guy mate." He said, patting Marcus's shoulder._

" _Thanks," Marcus replied with a smile as the bell rang for the recommencement of lessons. But as Oliver's hand fell away from his shoulder and the two boys made their way back into the castle, Marcus's smile faltered; and he rather thought that however much of a good guy he endeavored to be, things were not going to be easy._

"I take it back, Rachel," Millicent groaned once afternoon, setting her quill down as she finished her Charms essay. "You aren't working too hard at all- I feel like I'm never going to get through all this stuff, never mind pass my exams."

The Easter holidays had started three days ago, and in the weeks of classes, leading up to the break the Professor's had piled so much work on the first years that thus far, the holidays hadn't been much fun. Rachel, Pansy and Millicent, like many of their fellow first years, had taken refuge in the library in the hopes of making a dent in their simply enormous workload.

"I know the feeling," Rachel looked up from her revision of the twelve uses of Dragon's blood with a slightly strained smile, feeling both justified in her previous actions and as tired of working as her friend. "I still could do with a break, though."

"Me too," Pansy agreed fervently, pushing her hair from her face. "I mean, we're supposed to be on holiday!"

"Shut it." The sound of Ron Weasley snapping loudly at Terence Higgs, who had been mocking Professor Quirrell's stutter as he entered the library with a long, straight blonde haired, brown-eyed and giggling Slytherin girl in his year whose name Rachel didn't know, echoed over to the first year Slytherins from a few tables over.

"You shut it, Weasley," Terence snapped back, glaring at the younger boy over his shoulder as he and the girl, still snickering at Terence's impression, continued through to the back of the library.

The sound of the girl's laughter faded away and Rachel, Pansy and Millicent returned to their work.

Rachel rubbed her eyes behind her glasses, exhausted and rather irritated with her work. With all the practice she had had with her revision she had been able to work her way through a few of her essays without a break, but she was finding it rather difficult to remember all of the twelve uses of dragon's blood. She could recite the first seven on the list in her textbook with little difficulty, particularly the first three- those being spot remover, oven cleaner, and a cure for verruca- but after she landed on the seventh she simply couldn't think without having to check her textbook, and thus had taken to writing them down over and over and over again until she knew them all off by heart.

A shuffling noise from behind a nearby bookshelf made her glance up from her work. The gamekeeper, Hagrid, was searching through the shelves, looking considerably out of place in his enormous moleskin overcoat. Rachel returned to her work as he took a book down from one of the shelves, redoubling her concentration as Weasley started to complain; and then called out to Hagrid. Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel spied Madam Pince slip into a nearby aisle, eyeing the table of Gryffindors with disapproval; though she skulked off back to her desk as Hagrid departed, watching him- or rather the book he was hiding behind his back- beadily all the while. Rachel raised her eyebrows slightly, wondering if Madam Pince was rather obsessed with the library.

On Easter morning, Rachel's family owl Rowena, brought four large Chocolate eggs for Marcus from their parents, grandmother and Aunt and Uncle and Ceesy; and two considerably smaller eggs for Rachel from their parents and Aunt and Uncle and one large one for her from Ceesy. At least, that's what had been intended- Marcus smashed all the eggs to pieces and divided them into two equal piles before bringing Rachel her share.

"I saw that," Rachel said with a grin, the resounding, but none too surprising upset she had felt upon first spotting the eggs having vanished once she worked out what her brother was doing. "Thank you."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Marcus feigned innocence. "Happy Easter, sister dear." He said, moving away Nott and Zabini entered the Hall and hsHapassed him, heading for the empty seats at the other end of the table.

"Happy Easter!" Rachel called after him, turning back towards the Slytherin table and proceeding to add her chocolate to the pool Pansy and Millicent created with their gifts from their own families.

As the holidays progressed, Rachel, Pansy and Millicent managed to get something of a handle on their schoolwork, but soon the library became so crowded with students trying to do the same that the girls soon took to working in the common room. But that, for Rachel at least, brought forth a new, and not at all welcome distraction. Nott worked in the common room, too, and with Nott came Zabini. Rachel was able to ignore him for the most part, until one particularly stormy afternoon.

Nott and Zabini were sitting at the next table over, the latter forgoing his homework in favour of spending his time talking to Pansy about the rules of chess and his love for the game. Contrarily, Zabini, upon overhearing Rachel muttering to herself about spending three days trying and failing to complete her Potions work, took to lounging in his chair at the table beside hers, watching her struggle and fail to make any progress over the top of his Charms essay, smirking and snickering nastily all the while.

"Will you _shut up?!"_ Rachel demanded when she could stand the noise no longer, lowering her quill and looking up from her work to glare at Zabini.

Zabini arched an eyebrow back at her, "I haven't said anything."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Haven't you got your own work to do?"

"Yes," Zabini nodded swiftly, "but this will only take me a couple of hours at most- while that essay will take you at least a week; if you ever manage to finish it at all."

"Mate," Nott broke off his discussion with Pansy sharply, but Rachel had had enough- so much so that she didn't even want to reply. Getting to her feet, she stuffed her essay, textbook, quill and ink back into her schoolbag and swing it over her shoulder, feeling her cheeks burn despite herself all the while.

"See you later- I'm going to the library." She said to Pansy and Millicent.

"We'll come with you," Pansy said; Millicent nodded. The two girls got to their feet, too, putting their supplies into their schoolbags and shooting disgusted looks at Zabini as they left the common room with Rachel.

"He is _such_ a git!" Rachel burst out angrily as she, Pansy and Millicent made their way through the dungeons. "I haven't done anything to him- not today, anyway- and _how dare_ he imply that I'm never going to finish my potions essay- just because I'm not as good as he is in one subject does _not_ mean I'm stupid- and it's not as though he's never struggled with a subject- it's not as though he's ever made anything explode in Transfiguration or anything, oh no, not at all…"

"Ignore him, Rachel," Pansy said comfortingly. "Really, I mean it- just ignore him. I know that that is probably easier said than done, but don't take any notice of him."

"Yeah," Millicent slipped her arm through Rachel's as the three girls reached the Entrance Hall, "Ignore him- he's a complete git."

"Who's a complete git?" Marcus asked, pausing as he, Oliver and he two girls who had joined them in their compartment on the first of September, Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecombe, crossed paths with the Slytherins midway across the Entrance Hall.

"Just Zabini." Rachel explained, pushing her glasses up her nose, "He kept smirking and snickering over my struggling with Potions and when I told him to shut up and asked, pointedly, if he had his own work to do, he said that he did, but his work was only going to take him a few hours at most, whereas mine would take me at least a week- if I ever mange to finish it at all."

Marcus's eyes narrowed. "He said that?"

"Uh-huh," Rachel nodded, "but I'm just going to ignore him- really," she added with a slight glance towards her friends, having reached the decision to do just as Marcus and the others approached.

"Yeah- do that," Marcus nodded, though he still looked rather annoyed.

"Er- Marcus," Cho tugged on his sleeve, "we're going to be late for the meeting if we don't hurry; then we won't have pick of the leaflets."

"Yeah," Marcus nodded, before turning back to Rachel. "We're just going to find out about our Electives for next year so I've got to go- see you later."

"See you- and can I look at the leaflets you get after you're done, please?"

"Sure."

"Thanks."

"Why do you wan to see the leaflets?" Millicent asked as the two groups went their separate ways and she, Pansy and Rachel continued on their way to the library.

Rachel shrugged. "Never too early to prepare."

"I guess- so you're really going to ignore Zabini?" Pansy asked.

"Yep." Rachel nodded, continuing as an idea occurred to her, "…And not only that, I'm going to do whatever I can to get I higher mark than him in at least one potions essay- practical work, too, if I can- see how smug he looks then."

"Yeah," Millicent said as she and Pansy exchanged exasperated looks, which, along with Millicent's sarcasm, went unnoticed by Rachel as she plotted vengeance, "You're really going to ignore him."

"Yes I am."

* * *

After dinner that evening, Theo was leaving the Great Hall Blaise with when an unfamiliar voice caused them to pause.

"Hey- Zabini."

The boys turned around, and Theo saw a tall, curly brown haired second year boy dressed in Ravenclaw robes had followed them out into the Entrance Hall. He was, Theo remembered, Rachel Belby's older brother, Marcus. Behind Marcus stood the slightly shorter blonde boy he was often seen in company with, though Theo didn't know his name. Marcus Belby's arms were folded across his chest, and he was glaring at Blaise.

Blaise, Theo noticed, looked unperturbed. "Yes?" he asked coolly, raising an eyebrow.

"Leave my sister alone," Marcus Belby snapped angrily. "I don't know what stupid grudge you have against her and I don't care- just, whatever it is, drop it and leave her alone. Got it?"

His glare still firmly in place, Marcus Belby strode off past Blaise without waiting for a response; his friend followed, giving Blaise a cool look as he passed. Blaise did not look after them, nor did he wait until they had vanished up the marble staircase before he turned back around, striding off in the direction of the dungeons, his usual expressionless mask falling over his face as he did so. Theo followed, catching Blaise's eye as they entered the safety of the dungeons.

"That was... interesting."

Almost habitually, Blaise glanced around them to make sure they were alone before allowing his expressionless mask to fall and a scornful expression replace it. "Not really. Does he really think that that is going to scare me?"

"Possibly, or he wouldn't've said it. Are you gonna back off a bit though?" Theo asked. "He looked very serious."

"No I don't think so." Blaise shook his head, "I'm not going to be intimidated by anyone; and in any case, Belby's misfortunes are far too amusing."

"Remind me why you hate her so much?" Theo asked. "Rachel- Belby, I mean."

"I've told you- she eavesdropped on my conversation with Irma in Flourish and Blotts and then she was rude afterwards; doesn't exactly leave anything to like, does it?"

"No," Theo shook his head, "But she's nice to everyone but you, and everyone but you likes her okay, so I forgive me for assuming you didn't exactly take kindly to her eavesdropping in Flourish and Blotts?"

"Why would I?" Blaise shrugged. "… Do we really have to talk about Belby? The time I spend in her presence is excruciating enough without wasting the time that I don't talking about her."

"Okay," Theo raised his hands in surrender and the subject changed to the Quidditch league as the two boys continued on their way to the Slytherin common room.

* * *

Rachel, Pansy and Millicent took a united day off from revision on the twenty-seventh of March to celebrate Pansy's birthday, but the day after that and in the weeks that followed and term commenced they went back to working as hard as they could to combat their now ever increasing workload. Rachel continued her afternoon study sessions with vigour, save for the afternoons of the third and twelfth of April, when the first year Slytherins celebrated the birthdays of Gregory and Tracey respectively. Whenever she had a spare moment in the evenings, Rachel poured over the leaflets Marcus had passed onto her after he had chosen his electives for his third year- Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures- but though she was taking her time to read through them slowly to try and gather as much about the subjects as she could. There were several options, Alchemy; Arithmancy; Care of Magical Creatures; Divination; Muggle Studies and Study of Ancient Runes; and there were even some extra curricular subjects that could be taken in place of one of the electives: Advanced Arithmancy Studies; Ancient Studies; Muggle Music; Muggle Art; Magical Art; Magical Music and Xylomancy. Only Muggle Studies stood out to Rachel as a viable option at present- she would need to understand the Muggle world as Minister for Magic, as the job would require engaging with the Muggle Prime Minster in times of great strife.

"Honestly, if this doesn't raise my Charms mark I don't know what will," Millicent's words drew Rachel from her thoughts as the three girls left the Great Hall after Goyle's birthday celebrations at breakfast on the twenty-fourth of August, a little behind Draco, Vincent and Gregory, "this has got to be my best work yet; possibly ever."

"You've certainly spent enough time on it," Pansy said. "Didn't you edit it for three hours last night?"

"Yeah," Millicent nodded, "something like tha- ooff!"

Ahead of them, Gregory and Vincent had stopped very abruptly indeed, and not realising, Millicent had walked into the latter.

"Hey!" Vincent scowled, turning around. Millicent scowled back.

"You're the one stopping in the middle of the Entrance Hall!"

"I had to stop," Vincent waved an arm behind him, and looking past him, Millicent, Pansy and Rachel saw that Draco had stopped, too, right in front of Vincent, and he was staring wide-eyed after Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, who were hurrying out of the front doors to the grounds.

"Did you hear that?" Draco turned around as the Gryffindor's vanished from sight.

"Hear what?" Vincent asked.

Draco lowered his voice as a group of third year Hufflepuffs passed them. "Weasley and Granger- I think the Gamekeeper bloke, Hagrid; I think he's got a Dragon Egg."

"What?" Millicent frowned. "Doesn't he live in the wooden cabin near the Forbidden Forest? That's hardly the place to keep a Dragon Egg- or a Dragon for that matter- is it?"

"Well, no," Draco admitted, "but I know that's what I heard!"

"You can't have done," Pansy said dismissively as she, Millicent and Rachel edged passed the boys and continued on their way to class. "There's no way he would really have a _dragon_."

Draco shot out of Charms like a rocket when the bell rang, and as the first year Slytherins were lining up outside the Transfiguration classroom, he came hurtling around the corner and collapsed into line, out of breath, but grinning triumphantly.

"I-told-you-so-Parkinson!" he gasped for air between words.

"What?" Pansy asked confusedly as Draco recovered his composure.

"Hagrid- he really has got a dragon egg! Except now it's a Dragon- I just watched it hatch through the window of his hut; and not only that, Potter, Weasley and Granger were inside the hut," Draco's grin widened as he went on: "Finally, I've got him!"

"Er, not to burst your bubble," Nott began as Professor McGonagall swept down the corridor and opened the classroom door. "but what on earth are you talking about?"

"I'll tell you later." Draco whispered as McGonagall gestured towards the classroom door and the first years filed inside.

Draco remained jubilant about his discovery for the next week, or so Rachel assumed as whenever she was around Draco when he was in the vicinity of Potter, Weasley or Granger a knowing, taunting smile lurked around his lips, which only became more prominent when he saw the nervousness in their expressions. Rachel had no idea whether or not Draco was actually going to do anything with what he knew, nor did she have any inclination to find out. She, like the rest of the first year Slytherins when Draco gleefully crowed about his hold over Potter in the common room that evening, had advised him to report it to a teacher soon, lest the Dragon escape and hurt someone; but for her part Rachel was staying out if it, instead concentrating harder than ever on her studies. Quite aside from her wanting to do well on her exams as a part of her plan to become Minister for Magic and wanting to beat Zabini in Potions to shut him up, a small part of her was starting to wonder if she got really, really good marks on her exams, it might alter the current state of affairs between her and her parents; it might prove to them that even though she was not in Ravenclaw, she still had her family's brains, like the Sorting Hat had said. Deep down, Rachel knew that the chances her parents changing their minds were slim, so she did not mention her wonderings to anyone else and tried not to get her hopes up, but all the same, a small part of her hoped that it might make things slightly better...

"Look at Weasley's hand!" Pansy's hiss made Rachel look up from her Defence Against the Dark Arts essay at breakfast one Thursday morning, nearly two weeks after Draco's discovery. Looking across the hall with Millicent, Draco Vincent and Gregory- who had looked up from their breakfasts, Rachel's eyebrows rose as she saw Ron Weasley was nursing his right hand, which was so swollen that even from across it looked as though it was twice its usual size.

"Merlin," Rachel remarked, pushing her glasses up her nose. "I wonder what happened to him?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "He's been bitten by the dragon!"

"Told you you should have said something to a teacher," Millicent said to him. "Now look what's happened."

"It's not my fault Weasley's stupid enough to get so close to a dragon that it has the opportunity to bite him." Draco shot back defensively.

"Who bit who?" Nott asked, arriving at the table alone and sitting down beside Pansy.

"Weasley's been bitten by the dragon," Pansy explained, nodding towards the Gryffindor table.

Nott craned his neck to see and grimaced. "That doesn't look good," he said, pulling a plate of bacon towards him. "I'm surprised he hasn't gone to the hospital wing."

"Maybe he will," Pansy took a sip of pumpkin juice. "It's rare for you to show up to breakfast alone," she remarked, setting her glass down, "Where's Blaise?"

"Blaise?" Nott looked briefly stuck. "He's, er, busy at the moment, but I'm sure he'll be here soon."

Pansy raised her eyebrows slightly. "Okay."

But Zabini did not show up to breakfast as the meal progressed; nor was he accompanying his sister, Irma, when she swept into the Great Hall a few moments before the bell rang for the start of lessons and snatched a piece of toast from the table seconds before all the food in the Hall vanished. He was, however, outside the Herbology Greenhouses, reading his textbook, as emotionless as ever.

"Where were you?" Rachel heard Nott ask Zabini in an undertone as the rest of the first years joined him in waiting outside the classroom. "You said you were gonna be at breakfast."

"Yeah, well, I got busy," Zabini replied quietly. "Lost track of time."

"Did you go to the kitchens?" Nott pressed, "Have you eaten?"

"Not yet, but I'll be fine," Zabini replied, a faint edge to his tone. "I'm almost done, alright? Aunt Artmeis."

Nott raised his hands in surrender as Professor Sprout opened the door to to the greenhouse and ushered the class inside. "Alright, alright."

* * *

Early that evening, Rachel was walking back into the castle after her usual afternoon study session when she saw Harry Potter and Hermione Granger hurrying down the Marble Staircase. The two didn't seem to notice her at all as they passed her and hurried through the front doors and out into the grounds; but as she walked down the stone steps to the dungeons, Rachel couldn't help but recall that the two of them had looked rather anxious.

The bell rang for the start of dinner as she entered the common room, and Rachel increased her pace, passing Draco, who was sitting on the sofa, grinning broadly as he read a letter; a rather tattered looking Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook beside him, and hurried down the steps to her dormitory to dump her bag on her bed before going back upstairs to dinner.

"How fared the studying?" Millicent asked as Rachel joined her and Pansy at the Slytherin table.

"Okay," Rachel replied, spooning green beans onto her plate, "Not including Potions because... you know… it's Potions. How did you go with Charms?"

"Oh, you know," Millicent answered evasively. Rachel took the hint and changed the subject to the reliability of the Rita Skeeter's article about Celestina Warbeck in that week's Witch Weekly, a subject that carried her, Millicent and Pansy all through dinner.

"… I don't know, I just don't think I buy it," Pansy said doubtfully as the girls got up from the table at the end of the meal. "Surely if she really is using another person's voice- and a Muggle's at that- there would be more than just Skeeter perpetuating the rumour."

"Yeah I agree," Rachel nodded, "Skeeter must be running out of things to write about."

"That, or she's losing her touch." Millicent agreed, leading the way from the Hall. "My mother always said it would happen one day- she lived in the same area as Skeeter growing up, and they never got along."

* * *

"Wow," Pansy raised her eyebrows upon catching sight of a messy haired, untidily dressed Theodore Nott sitting on the sofa before the fire, a chessboard on the end table he had dragged around in front of him, as she entered the common room on Sunday morning. "You look..."

"Exhausted?" Theo suggested, turning at the sound of her voice and running his hand through his hair.

"Dishevelled," Pansy corrected, leaning against the back of the sofa. "Have you been up all night?"

"N-no, just for a couple of hours this morning," Theo stifled a yawn as he spoke. "This second year- Yatin Bhagat- he's on the Slytherin chess team but he's got detention with Madam Pince every Thursday night until the end the year for accidently setting off a Dungbomb in the library yesterday and the team meets every Thursday so he's had to drop out of the team. I'm hoping to get his spot and tryouts are straight after dinner tonight so I wanted to get some practise in."

"Really?" Pansy asked. "Where are the tryouts? Can people come and watch?"

"Flitwick runs the Inter-House Chess competition so they're in the charms classroom, and yes I think so," Theo nodded. "…Why, are you, er, interested?" he asked, feeling slight heat rise to his cheeks as he spoke, though he was not at all sure why.

Pansy turned slightly pink as she nodded. "I'm curious," she said. "You love chess so much I want to see what all the fuss is about; and you can't tryout without a cheer squad and no offense to him but Blaise doesn't inspire much confidence in that department… No offense." She added over her shoulder as the doors to the boys' dormitory burst open and Blaise himself entered into the common room, his expression as blank as ever. But Blaise took no notice of her or Theo whatsoever, instead walking straight across the room and vanishing through the door in the wall.

"I wouldn't be offended- he's very annoyed," Theo said mildly, watching his friend go.

"How can you tell?" Pansy arched an eyebrow.

"My Aunt is best friends with Blaise's mother- my Mother, too. We grew up together and he's always been, you know-" Theo mimicked Blaise's impassive expression, "- unless he trusts you, so I've learned to read him pretty well when others are around. I reckon I'm the only person he really trusts without reservations," he brushed his hair from his eyes, "and I appreciate the sentiment but there's not really room for noise in or surrounding chess- it's one of those intense concentration, dead silent games."

"In that case I will be as quiet as a mouse," Pansy said with a grin, her grin fading slightly anxiously as she went on. "If you're, er, okay with my coming along."

"Yeah- I mean, I'm fine with it- more than fine," Theo nodded. Pansy's smile returned. At that moment the door to the girls' dormitories swung open and Millicent and Rachel appeared, the latter holding her Potions textbook to her chest.

"You two took your time." Pansy said, turning.

"Someone was trying to do their hair and turn textbook pages with her teeth," Millicent said, "Naming no names of course." She gestured pointedly to Rachel as she spoke, grinning.

Rachel looked slightly defensive, "Every bit helps!" she insisted, pushing her glasses up her nose.

"I'm sure," Pansy smirked; Rachel rolled her eyes. "We're going to go to breakfast," Pansy went on, turning back to Theo. "You coming?"

The shook his head. "I'm going to get a few more games in," he said. "But I'll see you later," he smiled.

"See you," Pansy smiled back, waving as she led her friends from the common room.

"…Why's Nott playing chess on his own?" Rachel asked as the girls made their way through the dungeons.

"He's practicing to try and get into the Slytherin chess team- someone's had to drop out and tryouts are tonight," Pansy said. "I'm going to go and cheer him on. Silently."

"Silently?" Millicent asked.

"Chess is apparently one of those dead silent games," Pansy explained, "that requires intense concentration."

"That makes sense," Millicent nodded. "Why do you want to go and watch him play, anyway?"

"I'm curious. He's talked about it with me and I can tell he really loves it and I just want to see if I can understand his perspec- hey," Pansy paused as the girls reached the Entrance Hall, "what happened to the hourglasses?"

"Huh?" Rachel and Millicent followed her gaze and paused, too. A large crowd of students were gathered around the giant hourglasses that were used to display house points. Yesterday, Gryffindor had been in first place and Slytherin second. Now, however, Gryffindor was in last place having lost one hundred and fifty points. Slytherin, too, had lost twenty points but they were a good forty points ahead of Ravenclaw and well and truly in first place.

"What happened?" Rachel wondered aloud as they approached the crowd and joined the small bunch of Slytherins in the crowd in front of the hourglasses.

"Merlin knows," Millicent shook her head.

"Is it a mistake?" Pansy asked.

"No it's not," Sebastian Parkinson slipped over to the girls from the front of the bunch of Slytherins, "Haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?" Pansy asked.

"Harry Potter and a couple of his mates- Granger and Longbottom- got caught out of bed last night by McGonagall- she took off fifty points each."

"Fifty?!" the girls chorused, their mouths falling open in shock.

"Yeah- and she gave them detention." Sebastian nodded, "She was already pretty angry- she caught Draco Malfoy, the idiot, out of bed first, but he only got detention and twenty points off, which is why we're down… but that hardly matters because we're still miles ahead of Ravenclaw."

"Merlin," Terence Higgs, the second year who had helped the girls find the Owlery, said as he approached the Slytherins, clearly having overheard their conversation. "Still at least we're ahead again. Yatin said you wanted to see me, Sebastian?" he added, looking at him.

"Yeah," Sebastian's expression hardened as he looked back at Terence. "You borrowed my Herbology notes – It's been two weeks now, I really need them back," he said, his expression souring further as Terence looked rather stuck. Pansy nudged Millicent and Rachel on either side of her.

"We'd better go," she whispered. "Sebastian's got a bad temper when it comes to people messing about with his stuff."

Millicent nodded. "I remember when you pinched his colour-changing quill," she said. Rachel raised her shoulder in a shrug and nodded, too.

"I'll take your words for it."

"Er…" the girls heard Terence say as they walked away, "Yeah, I get that but I'm not quite done with them yet…"

"That's mad about Potter," Millicent said as the girls entered the Great Hall and sat down at the Slytherin table, "I mean, one hundred and fifty points in one go is massive."

"Yeah," Rachel nodded, pulling a toast rack towards her. "Gryffindor aren't going to be happy."

"I don't think the rest of our House is going to be especially happy with Draco either," Pansy remarked, filling her goblet with pumpkin juice. "Twenty points isn't one hundred and fifty by any means, and though we're still quite ahead of Ravenclaw, it's not exactly five, either…"

Pansy's remarks proved to very accurate indeed. Word of the changes in house-points and the reason for them spread very quickly, and when Draco entered the Great Hall with Vincent and Gregory on either side of him as usual, he was subjected to a fair few glares and scathing looks from Slytherins of various years.

"For Merlin's sake I was only trying to do the right thing," Rachel, Pansy and Millicent overheard him saying to Vincent and Gregory as a couple of third years gave him scathing looks as they passed, "If any of them had found that letter from Weasley's brother in that book I took from him in the hospital and found out they were planning to smuggle an illegal dragon out of the castle they would have gone to a teacher, too."

"In the middle of the night, and presumably without this letter you speak off because if you'd brought it along you probably wouldn't've got in as much trouble?" Millicent arched an eyebrow, unable to stop herself from speaking. "You weren't trying to do the right thing, you wanted to see Potter get into trouble."

Draco whipped around and scowled fiercely at her, flushing. "No one asked your opinion, Bulstrode."

"Can't handle the truth, Malfoy?" Millicent retorted, glaring back at him.

"Does it really matter?" Pansy interposed, "What's happened has happened and Draco's lack of ability to face up to the truth isn't going to change that," she grinned.

Millicent and Rachel laughed. Draco scowled heavily at all three of them and turned away, stabbing viciously at a piece of bacon on his plate as Irma Zabini swept past, glaring at him.

* * *

"Checkmate."

"Match to Nott."

Theo grinned triumphantly, standing up and shaking the hand of his final opponent, a second year girl, Viola Richmond, as the competitors that had fallen out of the competition and the small smattering of Slytherins spectating in the stand-like seating of the Charms classroom applauded.

"Bad luck Richmond- well played, though. Well played to you, too, Nott- next practise is straight after dinner on Thursday- in this room," Peter Wilson, the Slytherin team captain said, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Thanks- see you then." Theo replied with a grin, picking up his bag and shouldering it.

"Nice one mate," Blaise's voice caused Theo to turn and grin back at his friend, who outwardly appeared, as expressionless as ever, though happiness flickered though his eyes, telling Theo he was pleased, and grinning inwardly.

"Thank you." Theo replied, lowering his voice as he went on, "How's your-"

"Congratulations!" Theo broke off abruptly as Pansy descended upon the two, beaming. "You were amazing."

"Thanks," Theo smiled back as the first years left the classroom amidst the other Slytherins in the room, "you see what all the fuss is about now?"

"Oh, yeah," Pansy nodded, "…D'you think you could teach me how to play one day?" she asked after a moment, sounding slightly hesitant.

"Yeah," Theo nodded, slightly surprised but pleased his play had been inspiring, "sure, anytime."

"What's wrong?" Pansy asked, raising her eyebrows in surprise upon saying goodnight to the boys and finding Rachel and Millicent at a small table in the common room. Rachel had her nose in her Defence Against the Dart Arts textbook, a three-quarter-written essay in front of her; but Millicent was sitting with her arms folded, glaring at the closed DADA textbook on the table in front of her.

Millicent said nothing, clearly fuming too much to speak.

"She had a row with Malfoy." Rachel supplied, setting her book down and starting to copy a quote into her essay.

"What about?" Pansy asked, sitting down at the table.

"He was complaining about people giving him a hard time- again- and Millicent told him to just shut up and get over it because there are more important things going on in the world, and he told her to mind her own business-"

"Mind my own business!" Millicent burst out furiously, looking up and positively swelling with indignation. "Mind my own business- it's bloody impossible to mind my own business when he is constantly spewing all his business out for all to hear!"

"-and she said that," Rachel went on calmly, continuing to write her essay as she spoke, "then Malfoy said that that didn't mean she had to comment on it and then he stormed into the boys' dormitories with Vincent and Gregory, leaving Millicent with a whole host of things she would like to say but can't because he's no longer here. That was about ten minutes ago." She finished her essay as she spoke and looked at Millicent sympathetically.

Pansy grimaced. "Sorry Millicent- you'll get your own back eventually."

"Oh, I will." Millicent replied vengefully. "He got caught out of bed at night by McGonagall- he's lucky it was only twenty points and detention. If anything the glares are the rest of the punishment- what'll really stop him from doing it again and losing even more points."

Rachel nodded, and pushed her glasses up her nose, a wave of exhaustion crashing over her as she finished proof-reading her essay and set it aside to dry. "You're probably right."

But whatever treatment Draco received from his housemates over the next few days, it was nothing compared to what Rachel assumed Harry Potter received from the rest of the school over the next few weeks. He seemed to be being shunned by not only his fellow Gryffindors, but students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, too- judging by this and the majority of them siding with Gryffindor during the first Quidditch match of the season, Rachel thought that they had been hoping to see Slytherin lose the House Cup. Rachel's fellow Slytherins, for their part, won back Draco's twenty points within two days and let their grudge against Draco go; but whenever they passed Potter, they took to applauding, whistling and cheering things along the lines of "Cheers, Potter- we owe you the Cup!"

Potter looked utterly miserable. Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom were ignored by the Slytherins, thanks to their not being famous like Potter, but appeared to be receiving similar treatment to Potter from the rest of the school, and were very subsided, too.

Rachel did not have much time to observe her fellow students, however, for exams were mere weeks away and her primary focus was her studies, especially Potions for despite her best efforts she was still struggling with the subject and was really starting to worry.

"You know, if the wind changes your face will stay that way." Pansy said knowledgably as the girls entered the library on Saturday morning, a week before exams were going to start. "And perpetual anxiety is not attractive."

"Well, hopefully the wind won't change until after exams." Rachel replied with a sigh, pushing her glasses up her nose as the girls sat down at an empty table at the back of the library. She spotted her brother sitting hunched in a corner, looking up from his work and around the library almost fugitively every now and then, and raised her hand, smiling, in greeting upon catching his eye. Marcus's eyes widened and a dull flush rose u his neck, and though he smiled back it was rather shaky, and he had gathered up his things and was hurrying from the library before Rachel's curiosity had even begun to form. Rachel stared after him in amazement, wondering what on earth was the matter, but did not follow, sensing that perhaps Marcus did not want to talk.

"Do you think the teachers will notice if my handwriting is bigger than usual?" Pansy asked, taking out her books, quills, ink and parchment and started work. "I can't be bothered to write a full length essay."

"Probably," Millicent answered honestly, as she and Rachel did the same. "You won't be the first person to try it."

Pansy sighed. "Merlin I can't wait for exams to be over."

Rachel nodded fervently, eclipsed by her own emotions regarding exams. "Neither can I."

 **A/N: Please review! :)**


	19. Chapter 19: Examinations and Cessation

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else that may be referenced in this chapter. The _bold, italic, underlined_ texts are direct quotes from the _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_ book.**

 **A/N: Enormous thank yous to you all. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)**

 **Chapter 19: Examinations and Cessation**

 _Pansy sighed. "Merlin I can't wait for exams to be over."_

 _Rachel nodded fervently, eclipsed by her own emotions regarding exams. "Neither can I."_

As exams loomed ever closer, Rachel found herself measuring the passing of the week in hours as opposed to days. Monday, for example, was not Monday, but three hours of DADA work, three hours of Transfiguration, two hours of Astronomy, and four hours of Potions. At breakfast on Tuesday morning, Rachel, Pansy and Millicent all had their noses in their Charms textbooks, when Gemma Farley, the fifth year Prefect, descended upon the first years.

"Hey, Malfoy- McGonagall asked me to give you this," she said, handing a note to Draco.

"Thanks." Draco took it with a nod, unfolding it as Gemma swept off up the table to her friends. " _ **Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight. Meet Mr Filch in the Entrance Hall. Prof. M. McGonagall**_ _, "_ he read aloud. "Oh, bloody hell- I'd forgotten all about detention."

"Eleven o'clock seems really late for a detention." Pansy remarked.

"You better hope they don't make you go into the forbidden forest Malfoy," Irma Zabini approached the first years, clearly having overheard them.

"Why would they do that?" Draco asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I don't know," Irma replied nonchalantly, raising her slim shoulders into an elegant shrug, "but there's all sorts in the forest, you know- spiders, creepy-crawlies, werewolves-"

"Werewolves?" Draco repeated, his voice rising an octave in alarm.

"Oh yes," Irma nodded, a wicked grin unfurling across her face. "Rumour has it there's been werewolves deep inside the forest for twenty years- I thought everyone knew that. Ho bisogno di parlare con te," she said sharply, speaking suddenly in Italian, her grin fading as she turned to her brother who had just approached the rest of the first years, at Nott's side as usual. " _Adesso_." She added sternly when Zabini opened his mouth, looking somewhat as though he was going to argue. Zabini eyes narrowed into a glare, but he turned around and followed his sister from the Hall. Nott sat down opposite Pansy and pulled the toast rack towards him, grinning faintly along with Millicent as Draco refolded up McGonagall's note and shoved it into the pocket of his robes, looking rather paler than usual.

At a few minutes to eleven that night, Draco left the common room for his detention. Rachel, Pansy and Millicent were amongst the few Slytherins still up studying at the late hour, and they were just finishing revision for the night, about an hour and a half later, when Draco re-entered the common room, white faced and trembling from head to foot.

"Draco!" Pansy exclaimed, getting to her feet and hurrying over to him in alarm, "Are you okay? What happened?"

Draco swallowed thickly several times. "…I-I'm never going into the forest again," he stammered at last, and hurried into the boys' dormitories without another word.

All the first years ever managed to get out of Draco about his detention was that it had taken place in the Forbidden Forest, and that he had seen someone, or something, drinking the blood of a dead unicorn- presumably something severely injured, for, as Tracey Davis said, thanks to her knowledge brought about by her love of Potions, though it would curse the drinker, drinking Unicorn blood would keep someone alive. What the thing was, Rachel didn't know, and she had no real inclination to find out, coming to the conclusion that the Forbidden Forest had been dubbed so for a reason, and whatever Draco had seen was a part of said reason.

Even if she had been inclined to find out what had been drinking the blood in the forest, Rachel doubted she would have had the time, for though her world had been eclipsed by thoughts and worries about passing her exams for weeks, the thoughts, worried and by extension her levels of determination and concentration increased tenfold as she studied and studied harder than ever. She was not the only one feeling the pressure; she noticed Marcus was spending a great deal of time on his own, walking about with his nose in textbook after textbook and what seemed like piles of notes; though the only times she caught sight of Oliver he was hurrying around the castle, looking around with an increasingly high expression of bewilderment. Even Zabini was acting strangely- far from his usual impassive self, in the week leading up to exams he could be seen hunched in the corner of the common room, surrounded by textbooks, parchment and quills; muttering furiously under his breath in Italian.

"Is he alright?" Rachel overheard Pansy ask Nott in concern in the common room one evening.

"Yeah- he just talks to himself when he's stressed," Nott replied absently, looking all around him. "Have you seen my quill?"

Pansy grinned amusedly, "Behind your right ear."

Nott reached up behind his right ear, grinning sheepishly as he found his quill. "Thanks."

As if the terrifying prospect of first year exams wasn't bad enough the weather was swelteringly hot as exams commenced on the first of June. The large classroom in which the first years did their written papers with special, anti-cheating quills they had been given for exams was particularly hot, but Rachel did her best to forget about the heat and focus on answering every question on every paper to the best of her ability.

It was not just written exams she had to contend with, however. There were practical exams, too, and Rachel did her best not to let her nerves get the better of her and tremble from head to foot as she took her turn in Professor Flitwick's classroom charming a pineapple to tap-dance across a desk for Charms; tried to transfigure a mouse into the prettiest snuffbox she could and make sure it didn't have whiskers for Transfiguration; and tried to remember how to brew, and then brew, the best forgetfulness Potion she could while Professor Snape swept intimidatingly around the dungeons breathing down people's necks for potions. She managed to hold herself together, how she didn't know, and the more the exam week progressed the more tired Rachel felt and the more she longed to curl up in a ball and go to sleep. But still she kept pushing, forcing herself to do the best that she could, telling herself that it would be worth it, right up until the last minute of her last exam, the written paper that made up the full percentage of the mark for History of Magic…

"Finish off your current sentence and put your quills down, please. Time is up."

Rachel exhaled, a broad grin unfurling across her face despite the sweltering heat of the classroom around her as she followed Professor Binns' instructions; finishing the last line of her answer to the final question on her History of Magic exam and setting her quill down. Time was up. Exams were over at last. Finally, she could relax.

"Thank Merlin!" Pansy exclaimed as she, Rachel and Millicent met up outside the exam room and walked out into the grounds. "They're over- exams are finally over!"

"Ah, I know," Rachel breathed as they flopped down on a patch of grass in the cool shadow of the castle. "I can't believe I spent so long revising the Eric the Eager's uprising when it wasn't even on the exam."

"Let's not go over the exams again, please," Millicent said, rolling onto her back. "I don't know if I can stomach it. I need a week off and we've got that now, thank Merlin."

"Fair enough." Rachel agreed, laying down too and closing her eyes, savouring the fact that she didn't have to work anymore until her second year; that she could just relax and have fun with e friends until she had to go back home for the summer holidays.

When Rachel woke up the next morning and went up to breakfast with Pansy and Millicent, she found the Great Hall to be abuzz with conversation. Students sat with their heads chose together, talking excitedly.

"What's happened?" Pansy wondered aloud as the girls made their way over to the Slytherin table.

It was Sebastian who told them, and the rest of the first year Slytherins when they arrived at breakfast, the story that was going around the school. It turned during his sabbatical before the start of the school year, Professor Quirrell had gone mad and to stop people from laughing at him, had gone in search of any remains of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to learn the skills to become more powerful wizard, and had managed to find some of the remains and became possessed by them. It was he who had tried to break into Gringotts on the thirty-first of July. He had been trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone- a powerful magical object that could be used to create the Elixir of Life, which could turn any metal into solid gold and granted the drinker eternal life- and use it to bring He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named back to life. But the Stone had already been moved from Gringotts before he tried to steal it and it had been brought to Hogwarts, and kept on the right had side of the third floor corridor- which was why it had been out of bounds. Once in the castle, the stone had been under the protection of trapdoor that lead underground which had been guarded by a three headed dog, curtesy of Hagrid, which then led to a web of Devil's Snare from Professor Sprout; flying keys charmed by Professor Flitwick; a giant chess set from Professor McGonagall; a mountain troll provided by Professor Quirrell to avoid raising suspicions; a riddle and Potions from Professor Snape; and an enchanted mirror from Professor Dumbledore. Quirrell had apparently been trying to steal the stone all year- it had been he who had let the troll into the castle on Halloween night, but had evidently failed in his attempt to retrieve the stone, then. He had tried again last night, but Harry Potter and his friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger had somehow figured out that Quirrell was after the stone for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and gone after it, too. Weasley and Granger had turned back after Weasley got hurt beating McGonagall's giant chess set and, having used Granger's help to pass Snape's riddle, Potter had ended up facing Quirrell and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Though unconscious in the Hospital Wing, having been brought there by Dumbledore, Potter had survived, again; Quirrell had died, and it was presumed that whatever remains of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named that had possessed him had died with him, or fled far, far away; for the right hand side of the third floor corridor was no longer out of bounds, nor was any other part of the castle or it's surroundings- with the exception of the Forbidden Forest, but then again, it had always ben out of bounds. Draco was convinced that the monster in the forest had been Quirrell trying a new way to bring back He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named; but seeing as Dumbledore stood up at the end of breakfast ad assured the school that they were all perfectly safe now, any panic that would have been caused by Draco's conviction had ceased and evaporated. As for the Philosopher's Stone, rumour had it it was going to be destroyed.

"Merlin," Rachel shook her head in amazement as she, Pansy and Millicent made their way out into the grounds once they had finished eating. "I mean, Quirrell was always a bit... odd, but to think that he was being possessed by You-Know-Who…"

"It's horrible," Pansy shuddered as they sat down under the beech tree by the Black Lake.

"D'you think Potter will be okay?" Rachel asked. "If he's been unconscious since last night…"

"I'm sure he'll be fine- they'll do everything to save him, he's The Boy-Who-Lived," Millicent said comfortingly, going on decisively. "Look, we shouldn't dwell on this. It's a horrible thing to have happened yes, but it's over; this is supposed to be our time to unwind after and have this week's _Witch Weekly_ to dissect."

Pansy and Rachel grinned back, nodding their agreement and the subject of the previous night's events was dropped and changed to their horoscopes for the month and whether or not colour changing nail polish really was all it was advertised to be.

As the next few days passed, the excitement over Potter's exploits died down considerably, especially once word got round that he had woken up in the Hospital Wing, and Rachel found herself more relaxed than she had been in ages, and thus was able to fully join in with the enthusiasm with which the rest of her House faced the End of Term feast. Though Ravenclaw won the Quidditch Cup, having defeated Gryffindor- who played Katie Bell as Seeker and used a reserve Chaser- two days after the end of exams, Slytherin had all but physically won the House Cup, sitting on a grand total of four hundred and seventy-two points, and thus, were very much looking forward to the feast, where their victory would become official.

When Rachel, Pansy and Millicent entered the Great Hall the night of the End of Term feast, they found that it had been decorated in green and silver as well as a simply enormous banner embroiled with the Slytherin serpent hanging behind the staff table at the head of the hall, to celebrate Slytherin's seventh win of the House Cup in as many years.

"Good décor." Nott remarked as he ad Zabini entered the Hall behind the girls.

"Lovely, isn't it?" Pansy agreed with a grin.

Nott grinned back, sitting down beside Pansy as she, Rachel and Millicent sat down at the Slytherin table. Rachel groaned inwardly as Zabini sat down beside him but said nothing. She would rather not have to spend her last feast of the school year sitting opposite Zabini, but she resolved to just ignore him no matter what; knowing that Pansy was friends with Nott not wanting to get into an argument on what was such a happy occasion for her house.

The atmosphere around the Slytherin table was jubilant that evening- everyone was looking forward to Dumbledore's speech.

"Look- Harry Potter's back!" Tracey Davis hissed suddenly and looking round at the doors to the Hall, Rachel saw that she was quite right- Potter had just entered, looking perfectly healthy. Tracey was not the only one who had noticed Potter's arrival; a sudden hush eclipsed the Hall and then most of the Hall started talking in loud voices, spreading the news of Potter's return far and wide about the Hall. Potter, for his part, hurried over to the Gryffindor table and slipped into an empty seat between Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.

"Look at him- he's soaking up all the attention, really," the other first year Slytherins heard Draco mutter to Vincent and Gregory. Millicent rolled her eyes.

Regardless of whether or not Potter was inwardly soaking up all the attention- though it appeared to Rachel that he was ignoring the people who were standing up to try and get a better look at him- the babble surrounding his arrival was not to last, for it died away once Professor Dumbledore arrived and took his usual spot at the centre of the staff table and cleared his throat to begin his speech.

"Another year has gone!" Dumbledore began cheerfully. "And regrettably I must trouble you all with an old man's wheezing gobbledygook before we all sink our teeth into our utterly delicious feast. What a year this one has been! I hope that your heads are all a little fuller than they were at the start... and you all have the entire summer ahead to get them all nice and empty before the next school year starts...

"Now, if I understand correctly, the house cup needs o be awarded, and the points standings are as thus: In fourth place, we have Gryffindor, with three hundred and tweve house points; in third place, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two house points; in second place, we have Ravenclaw with four hundred and twenty-six house points and in first place we have Slytherin, with four hundred and seventy-two house points."

Rachel cheered with delight along with the rest of her house at this; several of the older students started to stomp their feet on the stone floor and several Slytherins, including Draco, banged their empty goblets in the table, creating more noise in celebration.

"Yes, Yes, very well done to Slytherin," Dumbledore nodded, breaking up the noise. "However, I am afraid that recent events have to be taken into account."

The entire Hall suddenly turned very still. Rachel, Pansy and Millicent exchanged glances, their smiles fading slightly.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and went on, "I have a few last-minute house points to hand out... Let's see here... Yes...

"Firstly- to Mr. Ronald Weasley..."

Across the Hall Ron Weasley turned purple in the face; suddenly he looked rather like a radish with a very bad sunburn. "...for the one of the most well-played games of chess that Hogwarts has seen in a number of years, I award Gryffindor fifty house points."

The cheers from the Gryffindor table at this were so loud that the stars in the enchanted celling above their heads seemed to tremble. One of the Gryffindor prefects, a fifth year with flaming red hair who could only be one of the Weasley boys could be heard amidst the cheers telling his fellow other prefects:

"My little brother, you know! My youngest brother- he was the one who got past Professor McGonagall's giant chess set!"

After a while, silence fell once again and Dumbledore went on. "Secondly- to Miss Hermione Granger... for using cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor fifty house points."

At this, Hermione Granger could be seen burying her face in her arms; it looked very much as though she had burst into tears. The rest of Gryffindor house were quite beside themselves with delight- far from being in last place, they were now one hundred points up.

"Thirdly- to Mr. Harry Potter," Dumbledore continued; and the Hall was suddenly deadly quiet. "For pure nerve and exceptional courage, I award Gryffindor sixty house points."

The cheers from the Gryffindor table were deafening. The Slytherins stared at each other, dumbfounded. Their absolute victory was no more- Gryffindor now had four hundred and seventy-two house points- exactly the same as them.

After a moment, however, Dumbledore raised his hand for silence again, and gradually, it fell.

"There are a number of different kinds of courage," Dumbledore recommenced his speech, smiling. "It takes a great amount of bravery to stand up to one's enemies, but just as much, if not more, to stand up to one's friends. Thus, I award ten house points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

If the noise was thought to have been loud before, it was nothing to how loud it was in that moment. Marcus caught Rachel's eye and grimaced; Oliver, too, looked sympathetic, but the rest of Ravenclaws, especially Rachel's old friends Terry and Lisa, along with all of Hufflepuff, were celebrating just as much as the Gryffindors.

"Which I believe to mean," Dumbledore called over the thunderous cheers and applause, "that we require a little change in decoration," he clapped his hands as he spoke and in an instant, the green drapes became scarlet and the silver drapes became gold; and the huge Slytherin serpent behind the staff table vanished to be replaced in seconds by a towering Gryffindor lion. Also up at the staff table, Professor Snape was shaking Professor McGonagall's hand; a horrible, clearly forced smile plastered across his face.

Rachel looked around at her fellow first years, and saw the same shock and dismay she felt echoed on their own faces- even Zabini looked put out. Looking beyond those around her, Rachel saw that all of her house fellows looked either shocked and dismayed or mutinous, and as her own mood sank further at the sight, Rachel had a feeling that this fest was not going to taste nearly as wonderful as usual.

The Slytherins' disappointment continued throughout the next few days, though it slowly lessened the more time passed, to be replaced with determination to redeem themselves the following year. Rachel, for her part, quite forgot her disappointment when exam results were released and she discovered she had come third in her year overall, behind Hermione Granger, who had passed every exam with perfect scores, and Terry, who had only beaten Rachel thanks to his potions mark and looked at her very smugly indeed upon discovering the rankings. Rachel glared back at him, vowing inwardly to work harder than ever so that next year, or failing that one other year, she would triumph over him. Pansy and Millicent- despite the latter's only just scraping through Charms- had got good marks too, as had the rest of the first years- indeed, Rachel was very surprised that Zabini had come fifth in the year, his abysmal Transfiguration mark being the only thing stopping him from beating a Hufflepuff boy, Ernie Macmillan, for fourth place.

"Nice one, mate." Nott said to Zabini, grinning. "Looks like that last minute revision payed off."

Zabini shrugged nonchalantly, and, looking bored walked off. Nott rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "He's hiding it very well but I think that deep, deep, deep down he's pleased, really," Rachel heard him say to Pansy. "Well done, by the way," he smiled.

"Thanks- you, too." Pansy smiled back.

"Congratulations, Rachel," Marcus tapped her on the shoulder, grinning as she turned around. "You did very well."

"Thanks," Rachel grinned back. "You, too- first in the year is nothing to sneer at. Mum and Dad will be pleased."

"They'll be pleased with you, too, I bet. Top three." Marcus said bracingly.

Rachel grimaced, her previous hopes regarding her parents and her exam results rising inwardly despite herself. "Hopefully."

All too soon, or so it felt to Rachel, the wardrobes in her dormitory were all empty and each girl had packed her respective trunk; all pets were in their cages and notes had been handed out, warning students that no magic was to be used during the school holidays; then she was clinging on for dear life to the side of the boats gliding across the Black Lake, her eyes screwed tight shut, hoping and praying with all her might that she didn't fall in; then she was safely in the train in a compartment with Pansy, Millicent, Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis, giggling and talking over Witch Weekly, games of Exploding Snap, sharing confectionary bought from the trolley, and changing from their wizarding clothes into Muggle clothing as the train sped through the countryside back to London; then the train was pulling into Platform nine and three-quarters and they were leaving the train with their things; waving back- Rachel with slight reluctance- to Nott as he was waved goodbye to them all as he passed through the barrier with the ever-impassive Zabini and his sister Irma. Rachel said goodbye to Daphne and Tracey and found Marcus waiting for her near the barrier as Harry Potter and his friends passed through it to shouts along the lines of: _**"See you, Potter!"**_

"Er- Oliver's already left- he and Terry have gone to see Mother in St, Mungo's with their father," Marcus said as Rachel approached him, Pansy and Millicent beside her. "Ready to go?"

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," Rachel replied, nerves unfurling in the pit of her stomach. She had not seen or heard from her parents since the small Easter egg they had sent her during the Easter holidays and if that was anything to go by, her summer holidays looked very much as though they would follow along similar lines as her Christmas holidays. The only thing that was keeping her hopes for improvement up at present were the thought that perhaps that maybe, just maybe, they had thought a bit about their feelings since then, and that her exam results would bring forth something positive. Rachel did her upmost to concentrate on these thoughts as the wizened old guard supervising the students' leaving so they would not attract the attention of any Muggles beyond the barrier let her, Marcus, Pansy and Millicent through the archway that lead back into the Muggle world.

"Expect an owl," Pansy said to Rachel and Millicent as they emerged into the Muggle world. Her mother, Isabella, dressed yet again in this time seasonally appropriate flowery scarves and a large summer hat, stood a short distance away with Millicent's mother, Emma. A good distance away from the two women stood Rachel's mother, Susanne, who beamed at Marcus as he approached her as Pansy went on to Rachel and Millicent: "I'm not sure when but you two definitely have to come and stay again these holidays."

"Yeah, count me in," Rachel nodded; Millicent did the same.

"Rachel!" Susanne called out, a sharp, stern note to her voice, "Come now, we need to get home."

Rachel flinched inwardly at her mother's tone; it did not appear that the time apart had softened her parents' feelings towards her, and the small flicker of hope she had regarding their reception of her exam marks wilted slightly. "See you- have a good summer," she said to Pansy and Millicent, managing a smile.

"You too," Pansy and Millicent replied with smiles; exchanging goodbyes, too, and going their separate ways as their own mothers approached them, beaming.

Rachel turned and made he way over to Susanne, who was regarding her impatiently as she waited. A lump rose in Rachel's throat, but she forced herself to smile at her mother as she reached her.

"Hi, Mum; how are you?" she asked.

"Fine." Susanne replied curtly, not returning Rachel's smile. "Let's go, shall we? The taxi is waiting." Without waiting for a reply, she turned and started walking towards the entrance to Kings Cross Station. The lump in Rachel's throat rose higher, despite herself.

Marcus fell into step beside Rachel as they followed their mother with their belongings and offered her a comforting smile. Rachel managed a smile back, and took a deep, inward breath, willing herself to keep her emotions in check until she was alone. She didn't quite know how well her summer was going to go, but she had a pretty good idea; but at least her had Marcus, her friends, and the thought that on September the first, she would be on her way back to Hogwarts.

 **END OF VOLUME ONE.**

 **A/N: The second book in this series is now up on my profile, titled: 'To Find a Way: Volume II.' Thank you all so much for reading this book and for all the support and feedback it has received. As always, please review! :)**


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